


I Am the Alpha and the Omega

by sebastian_stern



Series: Tikkun olam / To Mend the World [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, Shin Megami Tensei Series, Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Summoner, Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Cock Slapping, Demon Sex, Face Slapping, Fighting Kink, Good Boy Sakamoto Ryuji, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Maids, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Metaverse Sex (Persona 5), Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Persona 5 Protagonist Has A Palace, Prostitution, Selfcest, Sub Sakamoto Ryuji, Threesome - M/M/M, Valentine's Day, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastian_stern/pseuds/sebastian_stern
Summary: Ryuji and Akira were staring at their phones, into their phones, where that dreaded new app had shown up in the last 24 hours. The icon displayed a spiral-shaped jade-green stone on a black background, similar to one of those magatama charms; the text below read “Navi.”It was uncanny. It was disturbing, at least for Akira, who was ready to take a break from his life as a Phantom Thief. The last heart he would ever steal was sitting next to him—stolen already.Oh, that’s real cute. Marry him already. Or hang him from the ceiling beam and fuck him silly.---This is a sequel toThis Is My Servant, Whom I Uphold,aShin Megami Tensei: NocturneRaidou x Demifiend story.It happens after Nocturne’s neutral endingin post-Persona 5 Royal’s Tokyo and features Akira/Protag x Ryuji.Read it on its own, or check out the first arc for more fun.New chapters Saturdays, 8pm Central (US),time permitting. There will be smut and kink galore: check the warnings before each chapter.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren & Sakamoto Ryuji, Hitoshura | The Demifiend & Kuzonoha Raidou XIV, Hitoshura | The Demifiend/Kuzunoha Raidou XIV, Hitoshura | The Demifiend/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: Tikkun olam / To Mend the World [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148066
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	1. Your enemy the devil prowls around (1 Peter 5:8)

**Author's Note:**

> **RECAPS** (in case you’re tempted to skip)
> 
> 1\. Raidou wakes up in a far away city after leaving the Vortex World / **mild smut**  
>  2\. Naoki wakes up in his Tokyo dorm room after defeating Kagutsuchi; everything is the same, but different; Ryuji spends some “me” time / **mild smut**  
>  3\. Akira takes his boy Ryuji for a wild ride, while Raidou keeps his eyes on the prey / **heavy smut, heavy kink, mild fluff**  
>  4\. Ryuji remembers his first night with Akira, but he also plans to have a little outing with a certain demon boy / **med smut, med kink, mild fluff**  
>  5\. Naoki finally meets Raidou, but he ends up in a date with Ryuji / **mild smut, mild fluff**
> 
> You can find copious notes at the end, in case you’re interested.

He was blind: first the hard light of Kagutsuchi, then Naoki’s claws clasping his soft hands; finally, velvet-like darkness. Thick, fragrant, not exactly warm, but with a hint of electricity in the air that seemed to permeate everything. It could be magatsuhi. But it was most likely just spring. Was it April again?

The velvet was his cloak, which he often used as a blanket—a second skin. He was still human: skin, flesh, and bones, futilely clad against the elements and the lethal gale of Death herself, but holding on to dear life, strong as ever.

They both had fallen from the skies. Either that or they had been pushed out from the center of the world—the Vortex World. If they hadn’t, that’s how it felt in the moment: that’s why his physical self seemed more prevalent. Thinking was a tall order now. It was easier to feel his way into this new place. _One hell of a smash._

For there were nerves beneath the skin; blood as well. Tirelessly pumping through the closed circuit of his body, its outer layer gently pierced by his slave’s fangs, the sweet liquor dabbing his lips and flowing into his delicate mouth. He ~~liked~~ _used to_ like to indulge his demon every once in a while.

That was the missing part. Naoki wasn’t there next to him. There was no leash to tug from. But Raidou didn’t panic: there had to be an explanation. This was just the beginning in a new world, and beginnings are hard.

He heard a voice, seemingly addressing him.

“Eh, guapo. Oye. ¡Despierta!” The man turned around to speak to someone else. “Este tío está frito... total.” And again at Raidou. “¡Oye!”

He woke up.

“Menos mal.” The man sighed in relief.

Raidou couldn’t understand those words—it must have been some European language—, but their meaning was clear: _He_ _y_ _you_ _,_ _w_ _ake up._ When he opened his eyes, he saw two men: a tall, blond, statuesque youth wearing a leather jacket over his naked torso and tight-fitting jeans; next to him, a shorter guy with brown hair and a couple of slick curls dangling over his forehead, somewhat pretty and fragile, wearing a black t-shirt, a velvet blazer, and black skinny pants. The shorter guy (or girl?) was smoking; the blond wasn’t, but both reeked of cheap cigarettes. _They do look like the future._

“¿Estás bien?”

“Er... I am... fine, I guess. I don’t know what you’re asking,” Raidou said, trying to answer the blond guy’s question, hoping that he would realize that they didn’t speak the same language.

 _So it’s him. It worked. Good._ “Sorry... I should’ve figured you don’t speak Spanish. Are you OK?”

“Sure. Spanish? Wh-where am I? I was supposed to be in Tokyo.” He took a glance: he wasn’t—unless Tokyo had changed a lot in Naoki’s timeline.

“No, this ain’t Tokyo. Are you _high_ or something? You’ve been sleeping on this bench for a while. You’re in Madrid, pal.”

“Madrid. Spain?” _What_ is _going o_ _n, for heaven’s sake._

“Yep. The land of the setting sun.”

“How come?”

“Déjanos solos, ¿vale? Luego te explico.” The blond guy kissed his companion on the lips after saying that. Seemingly, he wanted some privacy with the summoner.

“You got time, handsome? I’d like to have a chat with you.”

Raidou sat up. He was on a park bench, wrapped in his cloak. Gouto was around, but he was very much being a cat—that is, not talking, for a change.

“That would be most helpful. This is a bit confusing.”

He was able to examine his surroundings better. He had woken up in a rotunda within a large park: some city buildings loomed in the distance. There was a fountain with a statue right in front of him, surrounded by a circle of benches and greenery. Two couples were sitting, hand-holding and cuddling; some young folks were drinking and laughing in a corner; there were a few cyclists in the distance; a group of teenagers, almost kids, were jumping around with some odd contraption that seemed to be glued to their feet. None of them looked Japanese. Overall, it was a happy, carefree atmosphere, much unlike the Vortex World. But strange nonetheless.

The statue in the center felt downright eerie, given the peaceful setting. It was a youthful, muscular man, sporting wings and a splendid body, mostly naked. Raidou believed he was an angel struck by the powers that be up above—the Judeo-Christian God, it was safe to assume. The man turned his face at the sky with an angry grimace, but a snake prevented him from getting back up. The ensemble connoted tension, drama, defeat, punishment: it must have been a 19th-century Western-style bronze. The youth represented a Romantic hero, a fallen angel.

([Image by Felipe Gabaldón for Wikimedia Commons](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fuente_del_%C3%81ngel_Ca%C3%ADdo_\(Retiro,_Madrid\)_03.jpg))

 _Good answer_ _,_ _Kuzunoha-san_ _._ He wasn’t Christian, but he remembered enough from art class. At that age, you had to attend school sometimes. Even if you were a summoner.

The blond man waved his fingers in front of Raidou.

“Stay with me, man. So... you tryna say you’ve _never_ been here?”

“But of course. My country is on the other end of the world.”

“Well, I dunno. You could be a tourist. They visit from all over. Many come from your country, ya know?”

“Ah.” The man sounded as if the whole scene wasn’t all that peculiar. Could Raidou trust him? Then again, the people around him seemed completely unconcerned with his presence, and the summoner couldn’t expect them to speak Japanese, which the blond did. So he would have to stay with this man.

“Watch out for this fella, Raidou,” Gouto hissed. “I sense a strong power coming from him.”

That was evident to the summoner, but it was in his best interest to play along.

“Anyways. My name’s Yuri. Like George. Yours?”

“I am... Raidou. Raidou Kuzunoha. Nice to meet you.”

“Same same.”

“Are you Spanish?”

“Oh, not really. I’m Russian.”

 _Oh my. Yet another Russian. George, the dragon slayer._ He certainly looked the way he expected Russians to look: a tall man with neatly combed blond hair, blue eyes, and a stern, determined expression. He didn’t remind him of Rasputin, thank goodness. He was older than the summoner, probably in his mid-to-late twenties, but fresh and classically handsome. Still, there was a certain somberness to him. This man had lived through a lot.

_A man. Hm._

“I’ve been working here for a few years. Moved when I was a teen, so I know the language well. Not that I need to speak much, but hey.”

Raidou didn’t dare ask why he could speak Japanese, which very few of the foreigners living in the Imperial Capital could. Who knows: it could have become more common as a second language in the future. At the very least, it was comforting to know that Japan not only still existed, but that its people could afford holiday trips to Europe. But was that Japan _his_ Japan? It was too early to tell. Every future was different. He’d been to a few, if briefly. And this world was probably a completely different one.

“Are you good? You need to eat or somethin’?”

 _I haven’t eaten in... God knows._ He was hungry again: the world was back to normal. “Sure, I would appreciate that.” Raidou reclined and Gouto jumped from behind his back to his right shoulder.

“Oh, that cat. So cute! Do you know him?”

Raidou looked at Gouto, who meowed back at him. “Oh, of course. He accompanies me everywhere I go.” _There was someone else, but..._ It was too soon to ask about Naoki, no matter how much he missed that feeling of rolling the slack of the chain around his fist ~~and~~ _Not now, Raidou._

*******

“It’s actually quite flavorful. Thanks for the food.” Raidou struggled to finish the meat sandwich while keeping his manners. His fingers were dripping with yogurt sauce. The ambiance didn’t help either.

“No problem at all. I’d take you to a tapas bar, but... nothing beats döner kebap on a cold night without clients.”

“Cold? It doesn’t feel bad at all. Would you like to borrow some clothes?”

“Nah, I’m cool. Hey, talking about clothes... you look like one of those crazy anime kids. Cool duds though.”

“It’s my uniform.” ~~_Idiot._~~ What was he even talking about?

“Anyways... You know, I gotta look expensive. You don’t think my body is worth showing off?”

Raidou raised an eyebrow. It _was_ an outstanding body, but why didn’t he zip up his damn jacket?

“Wait. You _don’t_ know. Oh, man...”

“What should I know?” Raidou was still puzzled.

“I’m a hustler. Men pay to have sex with me.”

“Ah... That makes sense.” _Clients, of course._ Raidou managed to not sound surprised. He knew some men sold their bodies in the Imperial Capital too, but they were never this nonchalant about it. “Wait, I just...” He blushed slightly.

“I get it. You’re not a client.”

Raidou needed to catch a breath. Europeans were too direct for his taste.

“Don’t worry. You couldn’t possibly be a john. I never find customers even half as cute as you. Or as young. You don’t look older than 20.”

“I am 18,” _I think._ He couldn’t tell how much time had elapsed since entering the Vortex World. It felt like a year, but it could have been just a couple of weeks.

“See... Guys your age who look like you _never_ pay for sex.”

“...”

“Look... If you want to have some fun—only _if_ you want—there’s no one out there tonight. I can take you to a hotel. It’s paid already.”

Raidou stared at the man. He didn’t expect things to go this way. Not with him.

“Cat got your tongue, handsome?”

“He often does, as a matter of fact.” He didn’t look at Gouto, but the cat was probably seething.

“And funny, too. Oh, by the way: I won’t charge you, of course.”

“At any rate... Why should I... sleep with you?” Raidou crossed his arms.

“You’re kidding me?” He ran his hand over his chest. “I might work the streets sometimes, you know, but you won’t find a hotter guy in that park. Not that the competition is ugly, but... You’re getting this city’s finest ass. Period.”

 _So lewd._ Raidou didn’t take into account his experiences with Naoki and the way he had opened up to the boy—not to mention the fact that he had pimped the demon several times.

He disregarded the comment and looked Yuri straight in the eye. “I see. You’re definitely making a good point. On top of that... I assume you want to talk with me. We had an agreement.”

The young man smirked. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Raidou. Can we get to the hotel first, though?”

*******

They took a taxi: the silhouettes of office towers flew by. This area of Madrid looked a bit like the Vortex World’s Ikebukuro, but serene and calm, rather than ransacked and deserted. It was one of those places where money was made. So far, all signs pointed at the fact that this world had either avoided Conception or bounced back quickly from disaster. Naoki’s Reason had been honored. Did they even need demon summoners?

Raidou noticed Yuri’s hand resting on his lap. He would have slapped him, but he had taken the hint that affection between men was not as much of a taboo as he had expected in this world. At least during the nighttime. He had been walking around close to this almost shirtless guy without receiving stares.

“Why here?” Raidou said, distractedly, looking out the window.

“’Scuse me?”

“Why did you set up shop here, and not Tokyo?”

“Haven’t you seen the statue?” Yuri’s accent had changed. There was nothing to hide now.

“I have. But these people are Catholics, aren’t they? Don’t tell me they worship _you._ ”

“Oh, sure. I mean, generally speaking, they are. In spite of it, a rebel soul had the idea of putting up that piece in a public park. _La Glorieta del Ángel Caído:_ the Fallen Angel Plaza. Brilliant. Nowhere else in the world have I found such a tasteful rendition of the devil.”

“He is still a handsome angel up there.”

“Indeed: graceful and strong. It gives me hope to think that some humans haven’t forgotten about him and his deeds.”

“He looks like you.”

“Ah, aren’t you sweet? I know that you have good taste in men—or demons, for that matter.”

Raidou’s expression darkened.

“We’ll talk. I got answers for you. Good news, for the most part.”

*******

The hotel room was spacious, strangely modern. It reminded Raidou of a certain 1920s European style: clean and crisp... Bauhaus, was it? Narumi had a few pieces on that vein. He loved to import pricey knacks with utter disregard for the agency’s limited budget. Despite its style, the room looked lived in, as if several decades had passed: the small cracks on the varnish, the softness of the paint coat. _Naoki comes from the 2010s, so..._

**[Cue Betty Inada’s “Take a Number from One to Ten”;<https://youtu.be/3wbAZkvZ84E?t=9>; cause it must be what’s playing in Raidou’s head]**

“Damn, you’re a sex machine, my dear.” Yuri was just recovering from one hell of a fuck. He lit a cigarette and took a bottle of white wine from the room fridge. Raidou followed his movements—his butt, mostly—from bed: a statue. He decided to join in the drinking and the smoking: he was going to need some help to face this guy again.

“Thanks. It was easy: you’ve chosen a very alluring host.” He grimaced with the first drag of the cigarette. _Goodness gracious._

“Only the best. But looks are just part of it.”

“You’re right. I got to practice a lot with my slave back then.”

“Ah, Naoki. Poor kid. I miss him. Still, I think he was very happy with you.”

“I never thanked you for your assistance in bringing us to this world. I wouldn’t have confined Hitoshura without your setup at Kabukicho.”

“No need for that. We had an agreement, after all. You two were the ones who defeated Kagutsuchi. Quite the task.”

Raidou popped the question.

“Why do you talk about Naoki as if he was dead?”

Yuri shook his head and puffed a couple of rings. “Oh, dear, no. Sorry if I gave that impression. Your purple boy is alive and kicking. Or... Well, Naoki is.”

“In Tokyo.”

“Yes indeed.”

“You must take me there soon. That’s where I need to be, even if it’s no longer my Tokyo.”

“Well, you will be back soon. As a matter of fact, you will wake up in Tokyo tomorrow. I just made you take a detour to see how are you doing and whatnot. But the rest depends on him.”

“The rest? To what extent?”

“Let’s say that it’s mostly up to him to heed your call when you summon him. Tokyo is Hitoshura’s domain.”

“So he’s still the special demon that he was.”

“Very much so. That said... He’s a freewheeling, _laissez-faire_ Messiah. I have seen much stricter ones. He couldn’t care less about keeping tabs on people. See, in a way, he’s my boy through and through: a Chaos King.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not really exerting his power, nor has he controlled Creation in its finer details. You will still see some changes.”

“Well, obviously. Ninety years have passed.”

“Not just that.” He puffed again. “His Tokyo has col _lapsed_ into another Tokyo. One that happened to be handy for the Great Will at that time.”

“What?”

Yuri caressed Raidou’s neck. The summoner hated when people behaved with condescension towards him.

“Sorry, handsome... But you got yourself into a bit of a mess. Creation can be a risky business. Fresh worlds are hard to come by.”

“Nonetheless... I will see him again, am I right?”

“You will. Seek him and you shall find him. I can’t be of much help in that department, but I might show up if I see you struggle. What do you think, Gouto?”

“Raidou will be fine. He crossed you and survived, didn’t he?”

The summoner smirked. He was anxious inside, but Gouto was always a good sport.

“And then he seduced the devil himself. Pardon my French, but— _no shit,_ ” the cat quipped.

“You’re lucky to have this animal with you.”

“You’re lucky that Raidou’s here. I would scratch that pretty face of yours if we were alone, Yuri.”

*******

They took another taxi back to the Fallen Angel Plaza. The light of dawn was red, but a calm shade, rather than ominous. At first sight, it would seem that there wasn’t any Dark Realm in this world. But Raidou knew better: he would have to stay on guard.

“So all I have to do is to fall asleep here.”

“Yes. I will be able to get you back on your ‘flight’ to Tokyo. First-class.”

“First-class flight?” _I need to learn a lot._

“I believe that Naoki has assigned you a spot in his world. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. You will have a job, a place to stay, etcetera. You don’t need to worry about those things.”

“Hm. I will do my best.”

“Just in case you were wondering, you will also acquire all the knowledge you need about this world. Perhaps he will even update that stuffy speech of yours. Tokyo is wild now, baby.”

Raidou didn’t answer. He considered his Tokyo to be a fairly sinful place: what kind of things could be going on in Naoki’s hometown? Then again, perhaps he wasn’t in a position to judge anymore, as he had given in to all kinds of temptations. _For a good cause, though._

“Anyways... Once you get there, it’ll be the real deal. If you absolutely must see me, don’t worry. You know I’m good at finding people. In the meantime... Just treat my kid nicely.” Yuri winked at the summoner.

“I will.” _I can’t wait_ ~~ _to_~~

*******

“What do you think?”

“It’s quite strange that he has decided to do this.”

“Exactly. Hence my asking for your advice.”

“Very subtle. I don’t know what to think, really. You should start by tracking Naoki and making sure he’s doing alright. But also...” The cat stretched. “How do I put this... He’s your demon now. You better make sure he behaves. Or else... You see, I know what happens when a Kuzunoha summoner messes up, first-person.”

Raidou raised his eyebrows. “Thanks.” It would be impolite to ask about his past, even if Gouto seemed to invite it.

“Keep a short leash on him. No pun intended.”

_By all means, I will._

He looked at the sky: a clear, bright, crisp morning, the firmament painted in vivid shades of red and blue. A quiet dawn in a foreign city, in the land of the setting sun, the star burning behind the silhouette of the Fallen Angel. But the sky was always the same—trite as that sounded. His boy could be looking at it right now as well, even if it was dusk in Tokyo—the land of the rising sun.

 _W_ _ait for me, Naoki._ _I’m here_ _too._

**[Cue “Hold On Tight” by Thomas Azier;[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaVHxQzStC0&feature=youtu.be&t=79](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaVHxQzStC0&feature=youtu.be&t=79)]**

***********

_Thanks for reading! As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, and other forms of communication are welcome. Feedback is a great help when it comes to figuring out what to do with these kids. And there’s so much to do._

_In Chapter 2, Naoki (formerly Hitoshura/Demifiend) tries to get on with his life. It seems he’s managed to repair his world—for the most part. But something’s not alright. Meanwhile, Ryuji spends a lonely Saturday night._


	2. When the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well (Matthew 13:26)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on _I am the Alpha and the Omega,_ Raidou wakes up in a random city and has a random encounter. Or so it seems: there are no random encounters in SMT. Ha... ha.
> 
> In tonight’s chapter, Naoki faces his first weekend back home and has a reality check. Meanwhile, Ryuji misses his ~~bro~~ man, who’s away for a wedding in Inaba. (Yes, you heard me).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, folks! I hope you’re staying safe and sane. The kids in this fanfic think they are, but it’s just a matter of a few episodes before things go haywire. It’s Megaten, after all. PS. Are you all ready to scream “wassup, persona”?
> 
> Quick note: the first scene of this chapter takes cues from SMT: Nocturne’s Neutral ending, so you could say **it includes spoilers.** That said, each ending in SMT: Nocturne is a two-minute sequence with a fairly logical denouement. The game is all about the process. (So was my previous fanfic. We knew Raidou was keeping his boy in the end. But now...).
> 
>  **BEWARE:**  
>  This chapter contains scenes of masturbation and allusions to anal sex and Master/slave relationships, all of it M/M.

“Yo, Naoki.” No luck. “Kashima-kun, wake up!”

Isamu threw the beret at his friend, who seemed completely out of it.

“I know it’s that time of the day, but we must hurry. Chiaki’s gonna throw a fit. You know how she gets when it comes to school stuff.”

“Oh, sure... Sorry I dozed off.” Naoki picked the beret from the floor.

“No worries. I’ll take care of that,” Isamu said, stealing the hat from his friend’s hands and fitting it on his head.

 _He’s so sweet._ “Gimme two minutes, OK? I just wanna look in the mirror before I go.”

“Fine. Don’t worry: you look as cute as ever, pretty boy. I’ll be in the lobby.”

Isamu disappeared. Thank God he was on top of things. _Some_ times.

*******

Two minutes: that’s all it would take. Actually, it could take years to sort it all out. It was Saturday on his first week back in Tokyo and he hadn’t yet sorted out his memories. He’d had no time. Fortunately.

First, there was the messed-up reality of the Vortex World, his successful exploits, meeting Raidou, their cat-and-mouse “games,” his “slave training” at the hands of his Master, their honeymoon, and the final battle against Kagutsuchi. The summoner loomed big in those memories: he was the common thread to all of them. They felt quite recent. They _were_ quite recent.

Naoki zipped down his jacket and rolled up his t-shirt. The mark of the summoner was still there, a yin-yang between his chest and his abs. It looked like a faint tattoo, but it was proof that he had been branded as Master’s property. That sign summed up neatly what had happened last year (or so).

He wanted to place his hand on it to confirm that it wasn’t an illusion, but he wouldn’t dare. For some reason, touching the scar made his temples pulse painfully as if it was something he shouldn’t do. But he knew he loved that man, despite the moments of pain, then and now. Heck, he wanted him hard enough to make him leave everything behind.

The second thread of memories was all mixed up: many things that reminded him of his previous life were still in his dorm room, such as his soccer trophies, his game console, the few books he kept there—mostly school-related. There was plenty of evidence, even if it was hard to process. He was an almost-A student. He excelled at sports. He liked men. (There was evidence for that too, but it was not in plain sight).

Of course, there were Isamu and Chiaki as well, whose asses he’d kicked himself. So far they seemed unaware of what they had done in the Vortex World, but it might just be too early to tell. As he went over the directions to the hospital in his mind—just a short subway ride from the dorms—he recalled his last trip there. A fucking shitshow. It was April again, a cruel month, but he hoped it wouldn’t happen this time. _No Groundhog Day for me, thanks._

Then again, he had no time to get all moody. He checked his phone: a text from Isamu. “You’re late, Kashima-kun! Get on with the program! I’m waiting in the lobby. Don’t fuck it up.”

He rolled down his t-shirt and left. It should be easy to not fuck it up. The stakes were low this time. He just had to live.

_Run, Naoki, run. Charge ahead. Is that all you want?_

**[Cue Moderat’s “Bad Kingdom”;** [ **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBCy7-XF8eA** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBCy7-XF8eA) **; these guys do cool angst really well]**

*******

“Takao-sensei!” Naoki greeted his teacher with a wide smile. _I’m here because of you. And vice versa._

“Naoki! So glad to see you two. I thought you would never make it.”

Who would never make it? He? Isamu, as well? None of the three friends? What did she mean by “make it”? “To make it” as in “to survive”? She certainly wasn’t referring to the subway ride to the hospital, which had been perfectly normal. Tokyo was just as chaotic as usual, the streets crazy busy, the hospital lobby crowded with allergy patients, visitors, the lot. But that was all. Not even a suicide attempt to spice up the day.

That was the extent of “chaos” in this world: things worked, after all. There had been no massacre in Yoyogi Park. Hijiri hadn’t shown up out of nowhere to hand him a free copy of his article on the Cult of Gaia. Occult magazines were quietly piled up in newsstands, no one buying into their bullshit. Miss Takao was getting ready to leave the hospital, but this time her students found the room promptly. It had been a minor traffic accident: she was merely in observation.

“Takao-sensei, everyone misses you at Gyoen—even though they will never admit to it. I did manage to drag these two along,” Chiaki bragged.

The two boys stayed behind her. Isamu felt awkward, but Naoki didn’t: he was used to Chiaki’s taunts. And he was beyond feeling awkward. A year in the Vortex World had done wonders for his social (and sexual) skills. Besides that, he also felt as if he’d gotten to know too much. He could no longer be that sweet 17-year-old golden boy who everyone respected, admired, and swooned over at school.

“ _But you’re still a good boy for me. I taught you well, didn’t I?”_ ~~Master~~ Raidou’s voice echoed in his head. It felt as if a knitting needle was going through his temples, yet again—he wondered why.

“Are you OK, Naoki?”

“Oh... sure, sensei. Sorry. I overslept today.”

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t forget this is the first week of your last year in high school. You three will be going places after that, I assure you.”

“Of course! I’m so looking forward to it. Actually, I’ve got a few college admission materials I would like to go over with you when—”

“C’mon, Chiaki... Sensei’s not working now. Let her relax a bit, will ya?”

Chiaki blushed and gave a piercing gaze to her friend. Miss Takao, who was sitting in bed, erupted in laughter. “Thanks, Isamu. But it’s fine. It’s my job. And I love it when girls your age shoot for the stars. It’s the right time to do these things, after all.”

“Not that a boy like you would know anything about that,” Chiaki snickered.

“What about you, Naoki? Are you looking forward to the new year?”

 _Naoki? I don’t even know who I am anymore._ “Sure. It’s going to be challenging, but—”

“But you will pull through. I know you’re a very determined young man.” Yuko looked her student in the eye.

“Thanks.” He couldn’t help but blush a bit. Lately, he’d been getting praised for ~~giving great head and being a good slave boy.~~ _Snap out of it._

“You’re welcome. You should check your e-mail when you get home. I left you a short message this morning. Nothing major, just some words of encouragement.”

_Cause I need them, right?_

“I’ll be sure to read it later.” He wanted to check his phone right now, but it wouldn’t be proper, being with his friends and all.

Isamu and Naoki went back downstairs. Chiaki followed them with her eyes and then glanced back at Yuko.

“Thanks for your kind words, sensei.”

“But it’s true. You suffer no fools. And you strive as no one else does.”

“You know me. I don’t want to be some rich, spoiled girl.” _I don’t want to become my mother._

“If you fight half as hard as you did back there... Believe me: this time... you’ll take over the world.”

Chiaki giggled. “I’m not sure yet. But it doesn’t sound bad...”

*******

The hospital lobby seemed a bit quieter now, although not as quiet as it had been before the Conception, just a year ago—or so. The boys decided to wait for their friend.

Naoki waited too: in general. He’d only been back for a few days, but he’d fallen into his routine quickly. That morning, he woke up in his dorm room, had breakfast, and went to school as usual ( _I used to go to a different school, didn’t I?)._ He came back after lunch, took a cat nap, and headed to the hospital to visit his teacher as planned. He’d probably have a quick dinner with Isamu somewhere cheap in Shinjuku, or just play video games in his room and ~~have a glass of that b~~ munch on some snacks. Or perhaps go for a quick jog around the park to clear his head. It was just a regular Saturday in April: he was taking it easy during the first weeks of school. Cause everyone did. And he was just a normal boy. Quite handsome and a bit above average, but still. Cause the Vortex World was just a memory. _Yeah right._

But he waited. He _was_ waiting. It was Saturday, so he had time to think.

He made a mental list.

  * _Raidou’s gonna show up any time. Out of the woodwork, that’s how he rolls. I dunno what to think. It’s just a literal fuckin’ headache every time I think about him as... my Master. Cause he still is. But_ damn, _do I miss him._

  * _Chiaki and Isamu: these two. We gotta talk. I mean, they have to remember. Who the fuck wouldn’t._

  * _All the rest. Why the heck did I switch schools? What’s this Gyoen Academy place? Why I still_ sense _people’s feelings, just like... back then? Why do I have a fridge full of—_




“How are you doing, Naoki?”

For a minute, Isamu stopped playing with his phone.

 _Thanks for interrupting._ “Fine. Why you ask?”

“Man, it’s been so crazy this week.”

“What? Getting ready for the school year?” Come think of it, he hadn’t. But someone had taken care of that gap. “Well, you were never the A-type student.”

“No... I mean, yes, but... That’s not what I meant. And hey, we skipped a year, didn’t we?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember or what?”

“...”

“Because _I_ do.” Isamu lowered his head. “I just don’t know where to start, man.”

“...”

“I didn’t want to talk with her. But you... I don’t know... Look: I guess it’s all about you in the end.”

“...”

Naoki was looking down at his sneakers. Now that the cat was out of the bag, he wanted to strangle it.

“Are you listening?”

“ _Yes._ So you say you remember... everything?”

Isamu sighed in relief. “Pretty much. Like, on my end. What happened to me specifically: being lost in Amala and all that shit. Does that make sense?”

“Course it does. It’s not like you’re gonna remember what happened to _me_. Duh.”

“You kiddin’? In the end, everyone there got to know what happened to you. _Every_ one. You were, like, God or somethin’. But then... How did you let him...?”

 _Raidou happened to me. He was the god. He was the one I bowed to._ Again, the needles.

Isamu saw his friend in pain. “Hey, relax, man. It must be tough to be back. But we’ll sort things out. I’m pretty sure Chiaki remembers too. We’ll be here for you.”

Naoki took a deep breath and put his hands on his temples. _Am I cursed again, or what?_ He had a flashback: sitting outside of Nyx’s Lounge, hot and bothered, the touch of Raidou’s belt lingering on his skin. He shook his head.

“Look... This isn’t the best place to talk. Let’s meet when we’re back in the dorm. Anywhere that’s private.”

Isamu nodded.

“It’s enough with the three of us brooding.”

*******

For some reason, Naoki waited until late at night to read the email. He came back from Isamu’s room, opened his laptop, and checked his inbox. Ding.

Not that he didn’t know what his teacher had written about. It couldn’t get any more obvious.

_Dear Naoki,_

_Thanks for supporting my Reason._

_I made a great mistake in following Hikawa, but you never doubted me... Even if you had to accept Raidou’s yoke to bring about Creation: that was quite the detour. I must say, he might make a nice boyfriend for you, after all!_

_I wish you all the best this school year. You’ve earned it. It’s your world now. You will do well this time—no matter which path you choose, what you want, or who you’re with._

_We’ll talk when I’m back in school. I’m here for you all the way. Regards,_

_Yuko_

Thank-you-for-your-visit clinical at the beginning. Then just sweet. Clichéd. _Every-fuckin’-body is here for me now. Except for the man I want to have next to me and_ ~~_collar me again and_ ~~

So she remembered too. Did anyone else remember out there? Was it possible that the memories of the manikins had transferred into the humans of his world? What about Hijiri? He was a manikin, true, but he wasn’t the kind of guy that just goes away. And Hikawa? He only crossed paths with Naoki right before the Conception, but he couldn’t possibly have forgotten.

And heck, what about the demons? Where were they? He felt they weren’t gone, that’s for sure. Even if this was a brand new world, there had to be some old stalwarts. _Wouldn’t you want that? They were your allies after all._

Brand new demons like him had survived, that was clear.

_Like who?_

Naoki might have regained his human appearance, but he _felt_ he was a demon. It was hard to explain. He sensed it in the way he viewed ~~other~~ humans, in some of the things he could do with his body, in the lucid memories of his recent past that didn’t seem past at all. Everything hinted at the fact that Hitoshura walked alongside him, even if Naoki didn’t feel nearly as powerful as he had once been.

On the other hand, the mirror was stubborn: a normal human body for a guy his age, without glowing marks, claws, or a horn. Quite handsome, most people said, but nothing more.

 _The eyes, though._ That’s right. His eyes were... strange. An odd shade of blue, almost purple: the color of the murasaki flower, to be precise. On bright, sunny days, they took on a lighter shade, close to lavender. _His favorite demon boy, his favorite palette._ The others either didn’t see the odd color or didn’t pay attention to it, as if it had always been this way.

_Cause it has. Everything has always been this way for them. You’re the only one in the joke._

He wasn’t going to go out of his way to ask. _“Hey man, do my eyes look funny?”_

He put down his phone: the camera didn’t lie. His eyes were Hitoshura’s. Better said: they were the same eyes of the creature that Raidou had ~~forced~~ convinced into being his familiar. ~~The beast that the summoner had overpowered, imprisoned, and then tortured into submission.~~

Other than that, he was a healthy young guy: some old appetites never died down.

The new ones didn’t either. He stared at the black minifridge in his room. The day he woke up he opened it to get some water. To his surprise, he found a neat stack of brown glass bottles with black caps displaying a scarlet “L.” The thing was a monster: its door a gaping mouth, all blackened teeth. _Come here, boy. I got something you like._

Next to the stack of bottles, there was a note.

_My dear,_

_Welcome! I know you enjoy this, much it is harder to come by in your world. I’ll refill as soon as you need more. I don’t want you to do anything stupid._

_Enjoy,_

_L._

After two seconds of feeling sick to his stomach, he popped one open and poured himself a few sips on a clear plastic glass. The red liquid was more watery than Raidou’s blood, but it still tasted damn good.

 _What’s a demon to do._ It would remain his secret. He didn’t need it to stay alive, but it kept him going.

 _Now, though..._ He needed to scratch a different itch. He’d been a pretty horny demon. Luckily, that had an easy fix.

He was laying on his bed, his right hand running up and down his chest, then through the valley of his abs into his white slips. He’d need to beat off before falling asleep.

He couldn’t think about him: he’d feel those damn needles. So he started shuffling images in his mind: random older guys he had a crush on; boys from school, some of them from the soccer team, second to the swimmers only; hot men he would see here and there. He remixed online porn snapshots that popped in his brain—he felt too lazy to go up to his laptop. He turned off the light and let his imagination run free. He was horny enough not to drift to other topics.

Good thing is, many people from his former world were still with him. Many guys. Like Ryuji. That rowdy track boy, with those long, strong legs. They had managed to hang out a couple of times this week at school. Was he really a thug? He behaved like a nice guy with Naoki, but still.

Ryuji _would_ pin him down to the ground, his arms wiry but powerful, sporting a wide grin: he would then turn him over carefully, lick the skin tensed over his spine (starting where his horn had been), all the way down to his Venus dimples—he worked hard on those because they looked good and (now he knew it) any sane male (demons too) would love to rub his dick on them before going for the prize, as Ryuji was doing right now, “oh, man, you’re sooo hot, Naoki,” cause he was a bit goofy, a bit clumsy and sometimes too simple, but he would totally push the raven’s head down on the mattress and just do his thing, hot blooded track boy would ride good-boy soccer boy alright, all the way up to the hilt, nice and thick, in and out until done, good old sex, finishing over Naoki’s velvety skin, sweat all over mixing in, nice, cozy, gentle but still with a hint of “I wanna slap that ass so bad,” until he was done too.

Thank _God_ Ryuji was still there. He had to ask him out. Soon. It’d all be alright in the kingdom.

He’d sunk a freakin’ world for this, goddammit.

*******

Ryuji was busy, though. On the phone, that is.

“Hey Ryuji.”

“Hiya! How are things?”

He saw the blond’s boy grin as clearly as if he was next to him. “Meh, boring. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“But it went well, right?”

“Sure it did. It’s just that I don’t like these family things.”

“For real?” Ryuji chuckled. Not a surprise there. Akira didn’t even call his parents that often, so why would he be that interested in his cousin’s wedding? “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

“Yep. I’ll catch an early train from Okina and arrive in Yongen around 3pm.”

“I’ll go get you in Shinjuku.”

“There’s no—”

“Uh-uh. I’m doing it. I don’t want you to come back and find yourself all alone.” _Like that first time._

 _Damn._ “OK. I was planning on having you wait in my room, blindfolded... But Sojiro will be around.”

“Man... Save the idea for later in the evening. It’s hot.”

“You’re so needy.”

“ _Your_ fault.”

 _Brat._ But Ryuji was right. Akira had made him into who he was now. Though not really: all it took was a bit of encouragement. There’s a reason why Ryuji and Akira had become best friends so quickly.

“Hm.” Someone called his name in the background. “Well, handsome... I gotta go. It’s karaoke time here in the boonies.”

“I wish I was there.”

“No, you don’t. ‘ _For real.’_ But I kinda do.”

“I’d cheer you all the way.”

 _Oh, please._ “Ryuji! At any rate... Be a good boy, will ya?”

“I will... Master.”

Both were smirking on the phone; they could tell.

It felt odd for Ryuji to spend a Saturday evening alone, speaking to his boyfriend in the distance. It had all been so sudden: their first night “together” last February, two months ago (a hot mess); the realization that he actually liked boys too, no matter how hard he’d tried to deny it in the past.

After all, it made sense. Ryuji was almost always surrounded by boys: at school, in the arcade, hanging out, playing darts or billiards, or whatever he was up to. He soon figured out that some boys liked him back (which no girl ever did)—enough to do things with him he had never dreamed of. He felt as happy as if he had new running shoes.

That night, he also reckoned with the fucked-up truth that, for all his love for Akira, there were times he’d gladly spend with any boy available rather than alone—and there were so many cute boys. Especially on the sports teams.

Like Naoki. Naoki and his crazy anime-kid eyes (he’d never told him how gorgeous they were), his cute spiky hair, and _man, that ass,_ firm like ice cream scoops, running up and down the soccer field. God, grabbing that ass right now, _fuck._ Now that Akira was never around in school, it was getting harder and harder not to be tempted.

 _He_ was getting harder and harder.

His Master would soon fix him up, though. Tomorrow. He put away his phone, fished a slice of beef from his bowl, grabbed the gamepad, and managed to keep lewd thoughts at bay. On to the next Mako reactor.

As he was finishing the mission, his phone buzzed. A message or something. Probably Akira. _I better check._

Some new random app was updating all by itself. He was about to throw the phone out the window, but he knew full well that it wouldn’t do shit. He still dropped it.

_What the FUCK?! For real?!_

*******

Not too far from there, Raidou was taking a deep breath: a mouthful of that deliriously electric Shibuya air. He _knew_ how Tokyo was: it all had been neatly etched in his mind before arriving, but feeling it was a different story. It gave him Stendhal syndrome.

And yet, he had arrived a few days ago. On Monday, he woke up in a random apartment somewhere not too far from Shibuya, seemingly ready for school, for work, for everything.

He had a humble, but comfortable abode in what seemed to be a central location in the city. The kitchen, while small, had a well-stocked pantry, including several bottles of whiskey (for Cú Chulainn?) and sake, among other fancy sundries. His bedroom featured a well-appointed closet—not to mention his old high-school uniform, a class act that he saved for special occasions, since he had to wear his Shujin one on a daily basis. Of course, there was Gouto, who slept at his feet every night. A sweet, cozy life for a budding bachelor, if he would have been one.

There was the rest: his summoning tubes, his prized kuda, all intact, loaded, neatly stacked inside a sturdy aluminum briefcase. The exterior of the case showed a capital A in bold type inside a circle. A company logo, perhaps?

It wasn’t the only odd mark. His palms showed Hitoshura’s marks: α and ω, the beginning and the end, somewhat faint but visible enough to make him use his gloves most of the time.

Those marks were all he had left. He had tried to summon Naoki to no avail, but the tube where he had confined the demon still glowed: it radiated the same gentle purple light that the boy’s body acquired after becoming Raidou’s property.

The summoner wasn’t at peace with that, but he wouldn’t give up. Demons were hard to miss. In a matter of days, weeks at most, Naoki would be kneeling before him, and Raidou would scratch him behind his ears as if nothing had happened. The demon by his Master’s side: everything in its right place.

He hadn’t bent a Messiah’s will in vain.

For now, he figured that he would spend some more time out, soaking the city’s energy, rejoicing in the fact that he had made this world possible, even if it was built upon Naoki’s memories.

And sure, he’d enjoy a nice monjayaki, or perhaps curry, along with some take-out sashimi for the cat. This was Tokyo. He might as well.

 **[Cue Pizzicato Five’s “Mon Amour, Tokyo”;** [ **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKdqr-K15zg** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKdqr-K15zg) **]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, yelling, and other forms of communication are welcome. Feedback helps when it comes to figuring out what to do with these kids.
> 
> In Chapter 3, Akira meditates on the past and takes Ryuji for a walk on the wild side, baby.


	3. I will make rivers flow on barren heights (Isaiah 41:18)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on _I am the Alpha and the Omega, _Naoki broods, Ryuji misses Akira, and Raidou plots his comeback.__
> 
> __In tonight’s chapter, Akira meditates on the past and takes Ryuji for a walk on the wild side, baby. Meanwhile, Raidou finds his way. And there is a tongue-in-cheek reference to _Call Me By Your Name_._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, folks! We’re slowly cranking up the celebrity heat, as Akira finally takes the spotlight: right on time for the release of Persona 5 Strikers, yay! I plan to play the game right after I take a couple titles off my backlog. I wonder if it will add something to this story. Summer shenanigans sound sweet.
> 
> This is a long, hard chapter, pun intended. No, it is actually long: that’s the way the cookie crumbles. If you are aching to see Akira and Ryuji getting real, jump to the word “whirling.”
> 
> Anyways...
> 
> **BEWARE:**
> 
> This chapter contains scenes of BDSM/kink, including word play, humiliation, impact play, light bondage, selfcest, and Master/slave dynamics, as well as oral and anal sex between men. It also references a Master/slave relationship.
> 
> No spoilers.

In the beginning, it had felt like a desert: a barren, sere expanse of land filled with unknown dangers, where everyone was everyone’s enemy. It made him recall the landscapes from westerns he would watch as a child, sitting on his father’s lap.

(The only good thing in those films were the men, but most were too rugged for his taste. He came to believe that American guys were all burly and rough and messy, with the odd exception, like Montgomery Clift. Just like any kid, he would always look up to older guys, especially at the time he started in Okina High, but he felt more attracted to pretty faces).

Tokyo was a bit like that: wild, often intimidating, lonely in the beginning. But real busy, too: the city’s bright lights; the hoards of clueless, annoying foreign tourists; the well-appointed salarymen, so many of them drunk off their asses by the time they got back to his neighborhood—no longer well-appointed. Within the overall chaos, Yongen was the dusty desert town where he had been sent to serve his time. It wasn’t his cup of tea.

But he grew to enjoy it soon—even Yongen’s narrow alleyways. He found plenty of friends: they weren’t foreign, but they were strangers like him, even those among them who came from Tokyo. It was the people that made it bearable, rather than the place. Soon enough, the city lured him as well: so much that he hadn’t felt the need to visit his hometown in an entire year. Now that he was there, he was bored out of his mind.

He had attended Yu’s wedding. The potential black sheep of the Narukami family, who was sent to Inaba from the sinful city, ended up getting hitched with a neat local girl from a decent family and decided to stay in that godforsaken burg—wait for it— _running the village inn._ There had been a lot of rumors about him and some guy he called “his partner” in high school, but it turns out that the queer one in the family—there is always an odd uncle, a weird aunt, a funny cousin—was him, Akira Kurusu. Yu’s “partner” was just a bro.

Which was unfortunate.

Cousin Yu was a true chad. He seemed to have been born for karaoke nights. His swagger made all the men swoon with envy; his sexiness—that unbuttoned shirt, too—could sway the ladies in a heartbeat. And even a few among the boys.

_Like me, tonight. What a fucking waste, this dude._

They were distant cousins, after all... But he’d rather not: he was all set with his man.

*******

Last year had changed everything. Akira’s sexuality was a non-issue in the huge mess that Tokyo had become. All that mattered was the fact that he and his team were the only ones capable of saving the city—no, the world—from “ruin.” It’s not like all of them were the same, but their personal stories of family trauma, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, isolation, and whatnot—the laundry list—flew into each other.

And of all the people, he had to bond the most with Ryuji. The boy caught his eye on day one: a loudmouth, hapless, rowdy dude, but also a city boy, slick in his own way. He took a liking to that trim, fit body. He would gaze at him for hours at the gym, in the bathhouse, or whenever they were running together. Despite months without serious training, and against his own perception, Ryuji looked fine: Akira wondered why the blond didn’t seem confident about his body. Perhaps it was the fact that the raven boy had gotten quite strong himself; almost an obligation for his role as the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

Funny: Akira had never spent that much time naked with anyone, not even family. In just a few months he became Ryuji’s best friend, someone whom the blond would trust with his life. At some point in the fall, Akira did the unspeakable: he confessed his feelings, baring it all in a different way. Quite to his surprise, Ryuji was cool with it. He was too  ~~ dumb ~~ chill to acknowledge what love meant to somebody as secretly earnest as Akira, or to conceive the number of times that his friend thought of keeping those words to himself.

Of course, Ryuji wasn’t  _that_ dumb.

He wasn’t the only man in Tokyo, either. Akira had seen Yusuke’s queer side very early on, but he never realized whether the artist was plain weird or if he  _actually_ fancied men. Sexually, that is. Akira definitely struck a chord with Akechi, but it was best to keep him at arm’s length, or else they would wound up killing each other (it had been real close). Once the last Palace was done for, Akira did all he could to lure Ryuji, feeling as if anything was possible after surviving their last ordeal as Phantom Thieves. He also knew that this blond couldn’t be  _that_ dumb.

He was now in Tokyo for good, at least until finishing school at Shujin, and hopefully for college. He had close friends (more than he’d ever had in his hometown) and plenty of contacts, many of which could be a good lead for a career of any sort (“I know a bunch of yakuza guys that would be all over you,” Iwai said once). He would stay here and make it his hometown.

“Next stop, Shinjuku. Next stop, Shinjuku.” Even that cold, disembodied announcement made him feel as if he was already home.

He grabbed his weekend bag and left the train. He looked around the station and made eye contact with Ryuji, who was waiting in a quiet corner behind a juice stand, his eyes only slightly averting his boyfriend’s gaze.

“Hey.”

“Akira...”

They hugged tightly, just short of what would be unacceptable for two guys in public. Not that they cared much anymore, but it was best to keep things quiet.

“Did you have a good trip?”

“Oh, yeah. I played video games a bit and then dozed off.”

“Ha! Pretty much what I did yesterday night.”

“Great minds think alike.” Morgana showed his head through Akira’s bag.”

“Can it, cat” Ryuji replied with a smile.

“Did you behave?” Akira asked with an intense gaze. “Just kidding.” He smiled.

“O-of course,” Ryuji replied, blushing as if he had been caught in the act. This man could read his mind—Akira was scary like that sometimes. He _did_ behave, even if he’d thought of misbehaving. It just wasn’t worth it. Also, other stuff had kept him busy.

“You’re a doll.”

“There’s one thing we gotta talk about, though. Not really about us.” _I think._

“Is it OK if we wait until Leblanc?”

“...Fine. But we _have_ to talk. For real.”

“Sure. We will.”

*******

Akira glared at the icon on Ryuji’s phone.

“So. We both have it. Have you heard from the others?”

“Nope. I haven’t told them either. No way.”

_Thank God he kept quiet for once._

“Not even Futaba.”

“Not even her. She texted me Friday to ask about some stuff and didn’t say a thing. I guess she’s just too focused on that... you know, the fanfic that—”

“Nah, you don’t need to tell me.” _Christ, this girl._ Ever since she had learned that Ryuji and Akira were dating, she had become their biggest fan. She would write about them as if they were Final Fantasy characters—mostly NSFW stuff—and post it on some random site. _Not even close to what we actually do. Reality surpasses fiction._

Akira got back on topic. “Anyways, so... the app. I don’t know why this would be the same kind we used back then.” He spoke calmly as if they were discussing something trivial. What flavor of cup noodles to pick for dinner.

Both were staring at their phones,  _into_ their phones, where that dreaded new app had shown up in the last 24 hours. The icon displayed a spiral-shaped jade-green stone on a black background, similar to one of those magatama charms; the text below read “Navi.”

It was uncanny. It was disturbing, at least for Akira, who was ready to take a break from his life as a Phantom Thief. The last heart he would ever steal was sitting next to him—stolen already.  _Oh, that’s real cute. Marry him already. Or hang him from the ceiling beam and fuck him silly._

But it was  _true_ . Couldn’t they just delete it and forget about it? What if they got new phones? Fuck it all.

But it was  _useless_ . The app would come back just like it did before. There was a reason for it to be there—they didn’t know it yet.

That back and forth was going nowhere. Ryuji was on the side of action, as usual.

“I don’t know. I mean, the icon doesn’t _look_ the same, but I bet it does the same thing.”

“You bet? Have you _tried_ it by yourself? Are you insane, Ryuji?”

The blond shook his head. “Don’t worry! I just entered some names cuz... I was so weirded out.”  _And you weren’t around, so I got antsy._

Akira sighed. Ryuji might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’d learned not to do stupid shit. “Don’t tell me. You have a Palace now, Sakamoto-san. A fucking pirate ship.” A part of him refused to believe that the app was there. He’d rather joke about the idea.

“I don’t. But... Look, man, the thing is...”

Akira knew exactly what was the thing. The whole point of their conversation. It only made sense.

_Color me amazed._

This had been on the cards since the very beginning. You cannot have a Persona  _and_ a Shadow, but you can have a Persona  _and_ a Palace. Especially if you hold unique powers. Akira hadn’t used them in a while, but there was no reason to assume that they were gone, even if the Metaverse was. Then again, the Metaverse it _self_ was still there, judging by the app.

God knows what or who else was still there.

“Well... Did you enter?”

“Wait—what?”

“You don’t need to tell me. I have a Palace.”

“How did you know?!”

Akira shrugged. “Ryuji... It’s me. I  _know._ Always. But I mean, it had to happen. It’s not like I don’t have any ‘twisted desires’... You know them well.” He caressed the back of Ryuji’s neck, getting close enough for the blond to feel his breath.

“I-I guess you have a point there. But I haven’t tried entering. I promise.”

“You couldn’t figure out a keyword, I bet.”

“Dunno. I guess I was too afraid.”

“Of me?” Akira held his boyfriend’s hand. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

~~ _Well duh._ ~~ “Not  _you._ I mean, I know you wouldn’t hurt me... the wrong way. But it’s a freakin’ Palace. We haven’t fought shadows since February, man.”

“I see. We could find anything in there... I wouldn’t know.”

“Right?”

“Still... What if we both entered? I think it’s best if we know what’s going on.”

They both hoped that Akira’s Palace wouldn’t be as frightening or as bizarre as any of the previous ones. Akira’s sexual tastes were the only thing that could explain why he had one in the first place.

And heck, Ryuji  _loved_ to let his boyfriend surprise him. Akira grabbing him from behind, cuffing him, feeling him up like some perv from a late-night crime show. Akira’s hand gagging him, that scent of coffee on his fingers. Akira stripping him as he pretended to resist.  _Ryuji... you’re fucked up._

Whatever. They wouldn’t have started dating if he hadn’t taken any chances. Cause Akira was dangerous—it’s just that it wasn’t bad. Ryuji needed one little nudge. He took a deep breath. They had a free afternoon. Why not.

“Hm. I will only go... If you tell me to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Akira smirked and snatched the blond by the waist.  _You nasty boy._ “You know the drill if you need me to stop. I’ll be watching.” He took a deep breath. “So... Let it be an order then. I’m going down.” He then put his hand on his boyfriends’ collarbone. “And I’m taking you along, boy.”

“As you wish... Master.” Ryuji gulped and felt a rush of blood to the head, just like every time they started playing.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Well then.” He picked up his phone and pondered. It took ten seconds.

“Akira Kurusu. Dungeon,” he spoke. It _had_ to be.

“ _Result found,”_ the Navi chimed.

Akira chuckled and kissed his boy on the cheek. “You ready?”

“Yes, Master. Let’s do this.”

“Don’t forget your safewords.”

Ryuji nodded.

“Aaaaand clicky. Oops. Sorry for stealing your line.”

*******

“Well, we did it! Now... Clickety-click,” Gouto said, as Raidou hovered over Naoki’s name on the screen, highlighted blue.

_Found you._ Naoki Kashima, senior at Gyoen Academy, midfielder and captain of the soccer team. Impressive game stats. Stunning looks. The portrait was fairly bland, but somehow his boy still looked male-model handsome. Slightly spiky ebony hair, somewhat sly smile. The black and green school jersey outlined his chest beautifully: its patterns resembled the marks he’d had as a demon. Those were gone, along with any other signs of his power. But Raidou knew best.

That carefree, flirty demon he met bare-naked at the Fountain of Life in Shibuya was now the star of the soccer team. Every guy coveted his looks, all the girls wanted that dreamboat of a man, and he was the pride and joy of his school—a posh private academy close to the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden that never existed in Raidou’s Tokyo, despite the foundation date listed on their website.

That’s who Naoki was now... but not for long.

Raidou grasped his glass of sake and spun in the chair, looking away from Gouto. Reminiscing. He had gone to hell and back twice to get the boy. This third time he’d keep Naoki for good. He didn’t mean to hurt him: he’d give him the chance to acknowledge him as his Master again, no questions asked. There could be many reasons for the demon’s absence. But he was ready to use any means necessary if that creature tried to escape. He had the tools, the deter—

“This is going to be tricky, don’t you think?” Gouto pondered as he licked his right paw.

Raidou spun the chair again to meet his mentor’s gaze. “Well... All I have to do is find him after class and see where things go. Demon negotiation, you know. I set the terms.”

“And then you have him kneel in public to collar him, right?” Gouto pointed out snarkily.

“...”

“We’re not in the Vortex World anymore, kid. Whatever he is to you, everyone around him sees him as a human. You better not get arrested. Plus... this is _his_ world.”

Gouto was right. Surprise, surprise.

But where there’s a will, there’s a way.

*******

The Navi logo started whirling—a nice effect—and everything went as usual. Akira felt a bit lightheaded, as if he had drunk too much coffee, and voilà: the Metaverse. It was safe to assume that this was his Palace: a representation of those twisted desires of him. But there was no way to tell what kind of place they would find.

He was sitting in bed, relaxing, wearing a tight black vest, red gloves, and skinny pants, all made of fine leather, surprisingly comfortable. His boots, similar to Joker’s, were on the floor. He jumped off the bed and saw a floor mirror in front of him. He looked normal, but the glasses were gone, the low-cut vest framed his arms, his chest, and his waist nicely, and his pants didn’t leave much to the imagination. He felt sexier than ever. He wished he could afford that finery in the real world.

The same could be said of his room: a sparse, but tasteful bedroom on the top floor of a large house—more like a manor, perhaps. The landscape outside reminded him of the quiet residential streets in his hometown: he was a kinky perv lost in the boonies. In the distance, however, he could make out office towers in a windswept desert landscape. Odd.

The interior was definitely cozy—almost luxurious. Judging by the room itself—a gorgeous loft with wooden floors, half-timbered black-and-white walls, and a California king-size bed—he led a comfortable existence. On top of that, he wasn’t alone.

Ryuji was in his bed. Akira took off the fluffy duvet that covered him from the waist down to reveal his slave’s body: the same fit, trim boy he’d known intimately for the last two months. Even better, in fact. His chest had more definition, as if he’d been going all out with push-ups. His ass was phenomenal: he had always had great legs, but this was an enhancement over his sinewy, track-athlete body.  _More to grab._ He had a collar on, but no other implements. Nor clothes, for that matter. Akira found some lying on the floor: all were his, save for a black jockstrap.

The boy woke up. He was hard, which made sense: morning wood. Akira favored morning sex. He wished for his life to be a perpetually cloudy, crisp September morning, the pale light of dawn flooding his bedroom as he lied in bed with his lover. First, bondage; then, hot, black coffee. He threw himself over Ryuji and rubbed his crotch on him: Akira felt ready to take him right away, but he wanted to savor every detail of this strange world inside him.

“Good morning, Master.”

“Top of the morning to you, boy. Glad you turned out like this.”

“Turned out? I’m the same as always, Master... But I welcome your praise.”

_Huh. He must be... A cognitive copy._ It made sense for that to show up in his bed. Even if they usually didn’t have proper sex there (proper sex anywhere, for that matter), he enjoyed sleeping next to Ryuji. But this body looked like it belonged to someone that Ryuji could become. Someone that was too perfect, too clean-cut. Actual Ryuji would be a bit less well-mannered, definitely less well-spoken... He still needed work. That was the spice in their relationship.

Akira worried for a minute. Where was real Ryuji, anyway?

Someone knocked on the door. Door- _s_ . The room had double doors: living large.

“Sir? Are you decent?” A familiar voice chirped outside. Slightly disdainful, bordering on sassy, but polite enough.

_No fucking way._ He wanted to get to the door as quickly as possible. He checked himself again in the mirror: it wasn’t the most proper outfit to wear in front of one’s butler (?), but he shouldn’t have to worry about those things in his Palace.

“Absolutely. Come in.”

There he was. That familiar fake smile plastered over his porcelain face, his slender body in a crisp butler attire, his body language communicating that he wasn’t  _really_ servicing Akira. He was an evil butler straight from central casting, but oh-so-pretty.  _Too pretty to be wrong._

“Have you slept well?”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t, with this here.” He smacked the copy’s ass. The boy giggled and snuggled in bed.

For some odd reason, that cognitive Akechi didn’t seem bothered at all. It was clearly Akira’s projection.  _I guess it’s just the way I run things in my house._

“Glad to hear, Sir. Brunch will be ready whenever you are. Also, someone has appeared in the basement. You should see it for yourself. It has been a while since the last boy you’ve broken in.”

“Someone?”

“Yes. Come think of it, he is almost the spitting image of your slave: perhaps a bit less manicured.”

“Where is he?” _So I do have a dungeon. Thank God._

“He is well secured in one of the cells, but I suggest that you visit right after breakfast.”

It had to be Ryuji. He hadn’t shown up in his bed, but he was in an even better place. This was too good to be true. Brunch could wait.

*******

Ryuji was no Phantom Thief in this palace: no skull mask, no weapons, nothing. It made sense, as he wasn’t a threat to his boyfriend. But he didn’t look like normal Ryuji either. He’d lost his regular clothes— _all_ clothes. He found himself naked, his wrists and ankles locked in a steel stockade. (He’d seen some good ones online, but they were too pricey for his Master to afford). His ass was facing the door to his cell, displayed to whoever might come in. The space looked similar to the Velvet Room but less cozy.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He didn’t need to guess who was visiting. He was nervous, but he understood what was going on: Akira had “put” him in a dark basement—a BDSM dungeon, in fact. His Master would do what he did best: use him. So far, so good.

**[Cue Sisters of Mercy’s “Temple of Love”;** [ **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMETa77dUrg** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMETa77dUrg) **]**

His cock started twitching as the steps got closer. Many more steps than he expected: he tried to look from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t just Akira, but also... Akechi? And what about that third guy between them?  _What the fuck._

Soon enough, the trio was inside the dungeon, in front of Ryuji’s cell, the only one that was occupied—there were three empty ones. The wall on the side of the stairs was neatly lined up with BDSM gear: a Saint Andrews’ cross, a large selection of crops, whips, paddles, measures of rope... Much more than the small stack that Akira treasured in his Leblanc attic. The space was dark, but some floor lamps lit the ceiling, giving off a warm, reddish glow. It was enough to make out the identity of the visitors. And yep, his eyes weren’t lying. That third guy was...

“Here we are, Sir. I was going to drag him upstairs, but I have the feeling that he might get a bit apprehensive if I’m the one doing that.” Akechi looked at Ryuji with contempt.

“You did well. I can handle him from here on out. I got reinforcements if he gets too cocky,” Akira said, tugging the leash he had clipped on the collar of Ryuji’s copy, who was wearing nothing but a black jockstrap.

Akechi grinned. “Enjoy your acquisition, Sir!” Akira thought he heard a smug chuckle from him. Actual Akechi would have done that, at least.

“Hey, twin!” Ryuji’s copy hollered at Ryuji proper. “Master, he’s a copy of _me!_ Where did you buy him?”

“Hee, hee... Well, if you see it that way, that’s fine by me.” Akira unclipped the leash and gave a pair of keys to the copy. “Get him out and get him going. It’ll be fun to see that.”

“Yes, Master. Let’s rev you up, handsome!”

“Oh, by the way... Call him ‘bro’ and stuff like that. He’ll like it.”

“Sure, Master! Well, bro, you’re gonna have lots of fun with Master Akira.”

_Of course. He’s mine, you jock copycat._ He wanted to get cocky, but he’d been a well-behaved boy from day one. He talked way too much when he wasn’t in his headspace, anyway.

His copy— _“let’s call him Jockboy,”_ Ryuji thought—sported a thuggish grin: was that what Akira had seen in his boyfriend when they met? That might be why he’d taken his time to tame the blond.

Jockboy opened the cell door and used the other key to free Ryuji’s extremities. In a matter of seconds, the track boy was laying on the cold floor, his copy massaging first his wrists, then his back, and soon enough his butt, getting intimate with that mirror image of him.

“OK, bro... How are we doing down there?” Jockboy started lubing Ryuji up.

“AAAAhhhhh... I’m... ah... fine... dammit.”

Ryuji was way more than fine. Still, he kept his eyes half-closed, feeling too weirded out by the fact that a duplicate of him had three fingers up his ass.

“Fine, huh? Well, well.” Jockboy picked up the pace. “Look, Master, he’s fine already.”

“Of course. You know that body. And that mind too, right? Give him what he wants, slave.”

“Hee, hee... You bet.” Jockboy cleared his throat and grabbed his “bro” by the hair, forcing him into all fours. Ryuji kept his wrists behind his back, the way he’d been trained by his Master: he was tempted to be a brat and fight his copy, but the minute Jockboy started speaking with a raspy, intimidating voice, he got in the game. This man knew how to handle him.

“You thug. You know what my Master does to _bullies_ like you? Bad boys who think they’re the most macho and drool over the girls and shit... Guess what he does to them.”

“H-he p-punishes them?”

“Punish? Cutting to the chase, huh? You masochist bitch. He’s gonna get your pussy before that. He’ll pound you so hard you’ll wish you had stretched before, bro.”

Jockboy turned the blond around to face his Master. Akira was towering over him, with his lips slightly parted and his right hand running over the silhouette of his cock, ready to go at a moment’s notice. Ryuji felt his copy collaring him with a measure of rope and forcing his head into Akira’s crotch.

“Get to work.” Ryuji sensed Akira’s flesh quivering beneath the leather: a beating heart. His boyfriend was loving this. “Fucking faggot.”

Old Ryuji would have punched that asshole in the face. That Ryuji had never been abused and insulted by a guy his age ( _except that time with the track boys, but I asked them to_ ). But this Ryuji... he didn’t even try to resist. He didn’t want to look  _happy_ either: he knew that wasn’t expected of him when he was deep in his subspace. He would go with the flow.

He felt as if someone had put a hot iron down his throat and was playing with it. Akira’s gloves burned his cheeks, his cock seared Ryuji’s lips, while the rope on his neck had started leaving its mark on the skin. For being this early in the game, Ryuji was almost overheated already. It might have been the Metaverse.

He’d never been so thankful for being able to be there.

“Eat the meat, bitch,” Jockboy ordered as Akira—was it Joker?—shoved his full length into his boyfriend’s mouth, almost choking him.

_Easy._

*******

Once Joker smeared his cum over Ryuji’s face, saving a little for Jockboy—he was a great help—, he felt he could make the blond even happier. He’d give him something that he could never get outside this Palace. After all, he could fuck him anytime.

“Hey boy. I’m gonna take a little break, but... There’s something I wanna see.”

“Whatever you wish, Master.” Jockboy knew what was going to happen.

“Tie up your bro and fuck him up the ass until he falls flat. Standing up.” He pointed at a pulley. “In front of that.” He pointed at a mirror.

Jockboy jumped in sheer joy. “Yes!!!! Thanks so much, ma... I mean, Master!”

“You got it. Well, Ryuji... Time for a little mindfuck, don’t you think?”

Ryuji looked up and saw all the shades of Joker in his boyfriend’s eyes: a thief, a sadist, a pervert, a silent killer. All the things people believed Joker to be. Some of it was true. Joker  _could_ be a bad guy. But he knew how to channel that.

And how to delegate. He was a good leader.

“Come on, bro. Let’s give you some tough love. You like it when men push you around? For real?” Jockboy said as he choked Ryuji from behind.

“...”

“FUCKIN’ ANSWER, you little bitch!!”

“Y-yes...”

“Call me by my _fucking_ name.”

“Y-yes, Ryuji.”

“Well, that’s too bad, cause I’m gonna tie you up reee-al tight. If I give you too much wiggle room as I ram it in, you’ll end up smashed on that mirror.”

Jockboy moved quickly, faster than any human could, even in the Metaverse. He tied Ryuji’s wrists to the pulley that hung from the ceiling, which Akira then adjusted so that his boyfriend was in a perfect fucking angle. The copy grasped the remainder of the rope around Ryuji’s neck, joined it with another measure, and fashioned a simple harness, which he tested twice: perfectly fitted. Ryuji felt heat coming up his throat as the rope cinched his chest. Jockboy finished his work by adding a spreader bar with shackles connected to rings on the floor.

“See?” He kicked his ass. Ryuji swayed just a few inches, his body tense. “You’re well secured. Like an animal. You pig.”

*******

Jockboy was great at abusing Ryuji verbally, but he wasn’t all talk. He placed his left hand on Ryuji’s collar, forcing his gaze into the mirror.

“Take a good look. You’re a meat lover, huh? You’ll get seconds today,” Jockboy said, as he used his right hand to spank Ryuji. He carelessly shoved his fingers up the boy’s entrance, making him gape.

“Caught you by surprise? Come think of it... you’re the meat. I’ll skewer you like a kebab.”

On he went: he cackled, slapped his cock on Ryuji a couple of times, and rammed it in in one move. He’d caught his victim by surprise, true, but the blond was used to this. He’d gotten good enough to tighten things up when needed. Jockboy felt bigger than he expected: it gave Ryuji some self-confidence to know that he could top a guy without giving it much thought. His copy could, that is.

“DAAAAAAAMN!! FUCK, you’re cozy,” Jockboy uttered as he pulled out slowly, inch by inch, leaving just the tip in. He forced Ryuji’s ass into a more comfortable position and pressed his hands down, looking for the best angle. In he went again, cursing, shouting, pulling his victim’s hair, behaving... the way people thought Ryuji behaved.

Who was this guy, anyway? Was this his first time fucking anyone? He certainly hadn’t fucked Akira: that might explain why he was so into it. Ryuji didn’t quite want to top any guys, but he didn’t need to be told that it felt good. He tried to picture the feeling: he thought of closing his eyes the same way he did when he masturbated in bed...

Suddenly, he realized he didn’t need to. All the lewd stuff he needed was there in front of him. No need to picture anything. There was Jockboy, pumping in and out, looking down and licking his lips as if he was about to take a bite of his ass. As if Ryuji was a piece of meat. He tried not to look too much: it was nuts. “Uuuuuuuh, fucking GOOD. Aaaah... Master? How’re things over there?”

Akira was sitting on a chair, his legs stretched, mesmerized with the side view of the action. He couldn’t get enough of Ryuji’s expression. He was also checking on him, trying to see whether this was too much, or too weird. But perhaps it wasn’t at all. After all, the blond was more confident with his body than he’d like to admit.

_So let’s get real._

Akira got up and moved in front of the boys, stroking his cock lazily. He was good at edging himself, but this time he would have to be careful. Ryuji looked up for a second, but he was too engrossed with Jockboy’s slowly increasing pace.

“Hey, slave. How’d you like it?” He grabbed his lower lip between two fingers. Just like every time Akira got his face too close to him, he averted his eyes a bit and hesitated.

Akira spat on him. “ _Don’t._ Look me in the eye when I speak to you, boy.”

Ryuji did. “It feels great, Master.”

“It’ll feel better. Beg him. Call him by your name. Keep your eyes in the mirror,” Akira whispered in his ear.

_Wow. For real?_

Akira smacked him. Ryuji was hesitating: not so much because he didn’t want it, but because this was surreal. He still got harder when he felt Akira’s hand.

“ _Now,_ slave. Loud and clear.”

“Yes, Master.” He came to his senses. “Ryuji.”

“What, bro? I’m just having a ball here, man.” Jockboy was just chillin’.

“Fuck me harder, Ryuji. Please.”

“Harder, eh? Damn, you’re not a bitch, you’re a slut, man.”

Jockboy went ahead full steam. Ryuji felt his copy grunting, his fists clenching the rope, leaving deeper marks on the skin; he bit his lips. The minutes passed, and sweat started streaming down his face, wetting the rope around his neck, mixing in with the drops falling from his copy’s body, all of it flowing down the valley on his back. He struggled to keep his eyes open.

Akira got his face as close as he could to the blond and whispered again.

“We can’t take pictures, slave, but savor this moment. Look at you.” He placed his hand on Ryuji’s cock. Gently. The boy got too excited sometimes.

“Look at that hot stud behind you, abusing this pretty thing here. Do you see how sexy you are? How ridiculously good you look? Do you get why I want you so bad? Own it, slave.” He stroke his boyfriend, gaining speed.

“...N-no, M-master... I-I-I’m gonna...”

“I don’t fucking care. You’ve earned it.”

Ryuji still clenched his teeth, trying to delay the inevitable.

“You, fucker.”

“Heh! What, Master?”

“Breed my slave.”

“Sounds about right! You and me are gonna have a baby, bro...”

Jockboy smashed his pelvis frantically against Ryuji until he had to stop. His howl echoed through the dungeon and Ryuji felt him coming inside, filling him up with his own DNA—provided copies had any. Seeing that was too much: not because it was crazy (which it was), but because there was no way he could hold it any longer. The blond felt his whole body quivering, as if it was charging for one big money shot. It went straight into Akira’s hands, who was quick to douse his boyfriend’s hair with it.

The floodgates had opened and closed. Ryuji was shutting off, but he thought about his Master. Not that he needed to: the second he looked up, he felt the tip of that cock on his face, spraying him for the second time. Akira slapped himself dry on his boyfriend’s face, careful to keep the boy’s eyelids clean—he had to see everything.

Jockboy made the pulley come down slowly. Ryuji dropped dead on the floor, as his copy worked to remove the restraints. Akira lied next to him. The blond didn’t speak: he just climbed on top of his man, smelling that soft leather and the scent of his Master beneath it, those raven locks completely messed up with sweat. He rested his head on his chest, inhaling strongly.

It was absolute bliss. If only he could have a copy of Akira to spoon him.

“Will you look at that bitch, getting all cozy.” Jockboy was standing up, his arms crossed, looking cocky. Akira smirked at him and then looked at his boyfriend.

“OK, Ryuji... Cut.”

“Aaaaaaaaaah... That was so frickin’ good, man.”

“I see it’s you again. But let’s get back to Leblanc. Don’t you want dinner?”

“Are you leaving, Master? I will miss you. And you too, copycat.” Jockboy stepped on Ryuji’s ass, a stupid grin on his face.

*******

They took a shower together in the tiny Leblanc bathroom, cuddled a bit under the warm water, and Akira heated up some leftover beef curry. A normal couple with a cat.

Ryuji was a simple guy: despite this afternoon’s mind-blowing session, he cleaned the plate, feeling this was the best way to finish the weekend. Akira didn’t seem so happy with the food: something was on his mind.

“Akira... babe... Are you worried?”

“A bit.”

“Like... The stuff we did down there?”

“No. That was awesome.”

“Right? I can top too, it seems.” He winked.

“Not in a million years.” Akira joked. “No, it’s just...” He struggled to find the words. “Is that all? The Metaverse up again? For one freaking Palace?”

“I see what you mean.”

“Even _you_ can see it.”

“Hey...”

“It’s not like some god is going to set things up so that I can have you get fucked by a cognitive copy.”

“But it’s you who made that Palace, right?”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

“Akira is right,” Morgana had been holding back: he usually preferred to leave the two boys be, but this was clearly under his purview. “We have to stay vigilant. Something is brewing.”

“Hate to say it, but... I guess you’re right, cat.”

*******

Naoki was tossing and turning in bed. Something was off. Demons don’t have actual nightmares—at least that’s what he felt back in the Vortex World. But he couldn’t get him off his head: not Raidou, who was his daytime obsession, but Hitoshura. The green-and-black rowdy demon Naoki had once been. The creature that almost killed the summoner, only to slowly offer his body to him. Had that really happened?

Naoki felt suddenly unable to move, as if he had been hit by a binding spell while lying on his bed. Hitoshura was holding his body hostage with invisible chains, his grip a thousand times stronger than that of the summoner. The fiend—a satisfied smirk on his face—was dangling something over him: a dark magatama. But this time the magatama didn’t come down.

He closed his eyes and waited for the next day.  _I’ll take Ryuji to the arcade tomorrow. I’ll tell him. I want a normal boyfriend. A normal life._

“ _I know what you want, boy. I am the only one who knows.”_ Raidou, this time.

“ _I’ll be seeing you.”_ He lowered the tip of his hat.

Demons don’t have nightmares. This was all real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, yelling, and other forms of communication are welcome. Feedback helps when it comes to figuring out what to do with these kids.
> 
> In Chapter 4, Ryuji remembers how he and Akira got started, while Naoki tries his luck with the blond.


	4. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened (Luke 11:10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on _I am the Alpha and the Omega, _Akira takes Ryuji for a walk on the wild side, baby (in the Metaverse, of course). Meanwhile, Raidou chases after his demon boy.__
> 
> __In tonight’s chapter, Ryuji recalls his first “date” with Akira, while Naoki tries to spend some quality bro time with the track kid. But a green-eyed beauty gets in his way._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, folks! I hope you enjoyed last week’s smutfest between Akira and Ryuji and Ryuji. As much as I hate to double down on the same couple, I’m doing that tonight. It has been a crazy week and this chapter is not completely out of place here. What follows is a rewriting of _Damned Be the Knives_ , a one-shot I published here a while ago as a draft for Pegoryu scenes in this story. I have adjusted quite a few things: specifically, the fact that Naoki is now a demon (I wasn’t sure whether that would be the case) and that Akira and Ryuji’s relationship is slightly more vanilla—if we compare with Raidou x Demifiend.
> 
> From now on, I have a few ideas to work with, but the field is open. Suggestions?
> 
> Anyways...
> 
> **BEWARE:**
> 
> This chapter contains scenes of extremely dubious consent, impact play, slapping, D/S dynamics, references to past sexual abuse, and oral sex between men.
> 
> In terms of spoilers, I think I have managed to skirt them, even though this takes place after P5R.

Naoki opened his eyes in the dusky room. He wasn’t in the Ginza lounge where he’d woken up collared for the first time, next to Raidou, his chain clinking. This wasn’t the cage where the summoner had locked him up after nearly killing him in Amala, nor the  ~~ training room ~~ torture chamber next to it. This bed wasn’t the one he’d shared with him when they climbed the Tower of Kagutsuchi.

This was his dorm room. He had lived here for most of the last two years of his life (minus his stint in the Vortex World), but it felt more foreign and scary than any of those other places.

Was this even his world? Could he live here by himself as a demon, after everything he’d been through? If that wasn’t a possibility, how was he going to make a home out of this place?

He’d fixed the world. What else was there to do?

_You fixed it, but..._

For now, all he could do was to keep running. And take Ryuji on the journey, if possible. Anyone but  ~~ his Master ~~ Raidou.

*******

“Hey, boy. Ryuji. Wake up!” He slapped his ass.

“Wh-What?”

“I’m leaving now. You’re late for school. Get dressed quick and get out, boy.”

“Y-y-yes, Master!” Ryuji smiled, groggy.

Akira ruffled his boyfriend’s hair. Poor thing. Yesterday they’d had a rough evening in the Metaverse, but they both needed it. After all, Ryuji could take anything these days. He was well trained. He would get even better in their new, spiffy playground. Akira was wary of the sudden reappearance of the Metaverse, but...

They’d wait and see.

He smiled and kissed Ryuji on the cheek. “That’s my boy. I will be working at Crossroads tonight. Late shift. You should go to your place and rest, OK?”

The blond nodded. He heard Akira slamming the door and checked his phone.

_Shit. I really gotta run._

*******

As he changed trains in Shibuya, he saw a familiar face: the most gorgeous pair of eyes in his school.

“Hey, Ryuji.”

“Oh hi, Naoki. What’s up, man? Running late too, huh?”

“Well, I was hoping to see you here.” Naoki grinned like a cat. “Did you sleep in?”

“Kinda, yes. Stayed up with the PS, you know...” Ryuji said as if he had been lying all his life.

They were packed like sardines in a tin, their bodies almost rubbing together.  _Almost,_ sadly. He knew Naoki wanted him. At this point, he was smart enough to see that. And Naoki was a cute boy—boy-band cute, but with the tight body of a soccer player.  _That ass too, dammit._ When they were together, it was hard to not get ideas. But it’d be a bad, bad decision to give in. His Master would probably punish him if he knew. For real.

They made small talk about school as the subway rumbled in the background. Naoki was looking up at his friend, almost scanning him. He had wanted Ryuji ever since they met by chance in the school showers. That was prior to the Conception, which seemed eons ago. He was different now (“I’m stronger now”: he’d said to Hijiri, his first words as a demon). He was focusing too much on certain features of the boy’s body, such as the blue lines on his long, slender neck.

There was something off about Ryuji today, apart from the obvious sleepiness. As the blond was talking, Naoki noticed something right below his Adam’s apple. Red. Small flecks of red forming a collar right above his neckline.  _Whoa._ He promptly examined his right wrist, the hand clenched around a holder. More veins. Same thing.

_Damn. That is rope burn. Not bad enough for everyone to notice, but yep. This guy has been tied up yesterday night. Tight. Suspended, even. I would know._ Bad idea: his mind wandered to a different world, not too long ago. The place where he  ~~ belonged ~~ was born.  _“You look so much better bound and collared. You were made for this, demon boy.”_

Ryuji saw that Naoki was squinting first, then burrowing his brow, as if he was feeling pain. Or having a headache. Or falling asleep. Or dead bored. Or all of the above. I mean, this time of the morning, even if they were late. Mornings suck. “Hey, Naoki! Come on, man, I’m talking. You’re making me feel like a prof.” Ryuji laughed.

Naoki just smiled. Thank god his friend woke him up. Along with the headache, he was starting to get hard.

“Next station, Shinjuku-sanchōme.”

They popped right out of the wagon and made their way through the crowd, picking up the pace. Ryuji saw some slate blazers with jade trim among the passengers: they were not the only lazy students.

“Phew. At least we’re not _that_ late. You OK?”

“Sure... Just dazed. That’s what happens when you sleep in! Anyways.” He brushed it all away, focusing on his plans. “Are you still free this afternoon? Let’s hang out. That arcade you always mention in Shibuya. Or wherever. I’m game for anything.”

“Oh, cool.” _Don’t blush now, for fuck’s sake. Be chill._ “See you after class?”

“You bet.” Naoki winked. For good measure.

They arrived at the Gyoen Academy gates, parted ways, and Ryuji went to the restroom to freshen up. He hadn’t checked himself in the mirror before leaving Leblanc that morning. He splashed water on his face and then he saw it: marks from yesterday’s trip to the Metaverse. Quite visible, at least for him.

No wonder. It had been quite the session. Nail marks from Jockboy, his cognitive copy. Some light bruises from all the rough handling. Those were gone, but rope burn could be a bitch. It was well worth it, though. Even if the whole point of tying him up had been to keep him steady as his copy pounded him.

He stopped right there: he better not get in that headspace right before class.  _But wait. Did Naoki see the marks?_

He spent the morning thinking about a boring way to explain rope burns on his neck. Naoki couldn’t possibly imagine what had happened the night before. A sweet kid like him just couldn’t.

*******

Who knows, though. Ryuji was like that too: a horny, sex-starved straight ex-jock with a reputation  _(that explains my copy),_ but a sweet, almost innocent teen deep inside.

Scratch “was.” He  _had_ been. These days he wouldn’t recognize the Ryuji that met Akira on their way to Kamoshida’s palace. His boyfriend had changed his life in ways he wouldn’t have imagined. Ryuji had duties now: he had to obey his Master’s rules, offer up his body to him any way he wanted, fulfill his desires blindly. Akira had many ways to discipline his boy—even more now that he had found his Palace. Not that he needed them. Submitting to his boyfriend was second nature to Ryuji: even a look from the raven could be enough to communicate what he expected from the blond boy. In the beginning, Ryuji had indulged him to make him happy. Now he did it because he couldn’t get enough of it.

It all had started just two months ago. Valentine’s Day, right after the last heist. They had no plans for that dreaded night, but Ryuji owed Akira a big one after ignoring him when the last Palace appeared, so he agreed to see him. It was the least he could do for his friend. The blond knew full well that Akira loved him. Heck, he’d told him. This was the closest thing to a date, but the raven would never do anything about it—not even tonight. Not even after losing the faint hopes of having an affair with freakin’ Akechi (thank  _god_ for that).

Of course, Akira hadn’t told Ryuji he wouldn’t try anything, but he didn’t need to. He was an angel: he only did things for the sake of other people. He’d never take what he wanted the most.

He didn’t deserve to feel lonely that night. Ryuji showered, tried to look decent, fixed his hair, and showed at Leblanc, hoping to lighten up Akira’s mood. He couldn’t do much more than keep him company, but it was better than nothing.

*******

He knocked on the door feeling a strange anticipation.  _But why. Like, he knows what’s going on, right? I’m here for him, that’s it. As his best friend._

“Ryuji! Come in. So happy you’re here.”

“Hey man, wassup?” Fist bump. Akira accepted it, but went for a hug as well. Pat on the back. No homo: he didn’t want to scare him away. “I thought I was gonna have to push the ladies out.” Ryuji winked at his friend.

“Nah, you know I don’t swing that way. I just told them to meet me at that pricey sushi bar in Ginza,” Akira joked.

“Where is Sojiro?”

“Well, I told him you were coming, so...”

“Ah. And Morgana?”

“He’s out and about. Don’t worry about him.”

“Great! So... We have the place all to ourselves. I bet Sojiro gave you shit.”

“Yes, the usual stuff. ‘One year in Tokyo and no dates? When I was your age...’ What you gonna do?” Akira shrugged.

“We should call in one of those maids, man.”

“Ryuji... Cut it out. It’s just us tonight, you don’t need to say that kinda bullshit.”

“OK, OK... It’s the habit. You know me, I’d prolly just chicken out anyway.”

“Probably.” Akira looked at him through the glasses, smirking. He usually didn’t: his gaze stopped at the lenses. That was the point. But tonight it pierced right through. “It’s fine. All I want is to have dinner with you, a couple drinks, and then play some games or something until we pass out. You got the sofa all to yourself.”

_He really is a saint._ He deserved to have some company. He would find a guy eventually, but friends... That was always first. Right? “That’s cool. I frickin’ hate Valentine’s Day, but this’ll be fun for a change.”

Akira smiled.  _You have no clue how fun it’ll be. Fun and games._ The raven boy invited Ryuji to make himself comfortable, telling him to leave the messy shoes by the stairs—it had been snowing—and to drop his coat by the entrance.

*******

It was two in the morning. Ryuji dropped the controller and yawned. “Maaaan, I feel so lazy tonight... Thank god tomorrow is Sunday.”

“We can go to bed anytime. Let’s go to the bathhouse when they open and relax a bit.”

“Whoa, I can’t even think about that now. It’s so frickin’ hot in here. Did you crank up the heater or something?”

Ryuji was just wearing his tank top and his boxers, pretty much ready for bed. Akira was in a white V-neck T-shirt and jeans.

“Not really. I think it’s just you feeling hot, Ryuji.” Akira giggled and looked at his friend’s boxers. They were tenting slightly. _Finally._ Takemi had something for every occasion. _“It only has a moderate effect. It will kick in fully once you get into the real action.” Christ, I’d marry her if I was straight._ Now it was up to him to make something happen. _Let’s crank up the heat then. For real._

“Don’t stare at me like that!” Ryuji got a bit flustered. “It’s just... the heat.”

“No, that’s what you think. I actually know what’s going on.” Akira stood up and took off his glasses. _This poor boy can’t possibly fathom._

_Hm. Is he just getting ready for bed?_ “Whaddya mean, man?”

“Stop playing dumb, Sakamoto. You’re dense, but sometimes... I can’t stand it.”

“I’m not playing dumb, Kurusu, I really don’t know what you mean.”

Akira was tapping his right foot. Not good.

“So you came here all casual, like nothing’s gonna happen. That’s so you, Ryuji.” Akira shook his head, walked towards the door that Sojiro had agreed to install not too long ago, and locked it, putting the key back in his pocket. “Clueless.” He leaned against it and crossed his arms, his pecs showing through the V-neck. “Shall we talk?”

Ryuji tried to stay calm. He didn’t have second thoughts about spending Valentine’s with Akira. He knew Akira wanted him, but his friend would never ever dare lay a finger on him. Ryuji loved him too... But not in that way. I mean, who didn’t love Akira. But his leader never did anything for his own benefit. Never. “Y-you don’t need to lock that door.”

“It’s just in case you chicken out,” Akira said, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, did you call a maid?” the blond said, sounding serious.

Akira was getting mad. “What did I tell you? Just when you came in here, Ryuji. Cut it out.”

“S-s-sorry, man.”

“Get up and sit on my bed.”

“Wh-what?!”

“You heard me. Don’t act like you’ve never followed my orders. Just do what I say.”

Ryuji did it. He certainly took orders from him all the time. He noticed that his dick, half-hard, was not going down.

“OK, man. You da boss.”

“Stop that ‘man’ bullshit.”

“OK... Akira.” Ryuji gulped.

“Better.”

“What do you—”

“You wanted me to explain? Then listen.” Akira got closer to Ryuji. He saw that the boy looked intimidated. That made him want him even more. “So you think I brought you here in Valentine’s Day and asked you to stay over, with no plans to do any—”

“Listen, man, I—” Ryuji saw Akira raising his arm. He recoiled and covered his face.

Akira was breathing heavily. Ryuji was scared.  _What the fuck has gotten into this guy tonight._

“It’s best if you don’t open your mouth while I talk. It’s rude.”

His friend just nodded. Akira’s gaze upon him was intense. They both had had some liquor, and their inhibitions were low, that’s for sure. But Ryuji didn’t like where this was heading. Akira didn’t get violent just because.

“Don’t pull that face. We’re two guys, you can fight back. But I’m not gonna hit you. Unless you want me to.” Akira smirked at him, getting his face even closer. Ryuji’s heart raced. “That reminds me... I found the magazine. Under your bed. Remember that day you invited me to your room to say you were sorry?” _I should have jumped on you then and there._

_Holy fucking god._ Ryuji recalled having lost a magazine around New Year’s. An old, small, foreign dirty mag. Men dressed as maids, getting fucked by leather-clad women with dildo straps. Men getting caned, flogged, tortured. Really hentai shit he’d found in a shady Shinjuku store. He could find that stuff online, but this felt cooler for some reason.  _At least mom didn’t find it. Not like she ever tries to clean my room._

“How the fuck did you know that?” Ryuji turned beet red.

“I found it just casually. You shouldn’t jerk off and pass out afterward, Ryuji. And you should keep those things hidden. That, or get a maid to clean your room. And slap you while they’re at it.”

“Y-you found it. Ok. So what. I mean, you and I have talked about Makoto... I don’t know where you’re going.” He now seemed irritated. Yes, it was embarrassing, but what was the big deal? It’s not like they talked all the time about sex, but Akira was the only person that he’d brought the subject with. He was the only guy that listened to him without judging, the only guy that made him feel safe enough to talk about stuff like that. And Ryuji was one of the few people that knew and accepted that Akira liked guys.

“Oh, don’t worry. I do know where I’m going. You know I always do.” He giggled. “Remember when we entered Kaneshiro’s palace? ‘Any objections?’ ‘N-none, Queen!’ I’m sure you’d like her to tie you up to her bike with your red hanky and whip your ass real good.”

“Wow, wow... Come on, stop that! I don’t go around talking about the things you like.”

“Hmph. I don’t care about your fantasies that much. I don’t need ideas from porn either. I got my own.”

“Look, if you’re trying to start something—”

“Bravo, Ryuji! About time, for fuck’s sake.” He got closer. “So I’ll tell you what I like. For real. No filter. You can tell anyone tomorrow.” Pause. _You won’t dare._ Pause. “I’ve been wanting to see you in shackles and ass up since we chatted in Kamoshida’s dungeon,” Akira said in a husky voice.

Ryuji was shocked. “Wooooow!!! You’re a fucking perv, man—” He tried to get up. Akira backhanded him, this time for real, hard enough to bruise his lips and send him to the floor.

“The fuck you doin’? You fuckin’ slapped me, you asshole!” Ryuji got up, angry, teary-eyed, pretending to be ready to fight back.

Akira pinned him to the ground effortlessly, rolled him over, and seized his wrists, twisting them slowly.

“Akira, fuck... Get off me! You’re hurting me, man!”

“Oh, really? Would it be OK if I dressed as Makoto? I’m a man, though. Right, man? You’ll see what men do with boys like you. Calling me a perv, you fucking bitch...”

He couldn’t respond to that. He couldn’t risk making things worse. He couldn’t break the grip either. Not a fucking chance. He’d have to wait for his friend to calm down: he rarely got mad, but when he did...

He’d forgotten how strong Akira was. He was a wimp when they met, but in a year he’d trained like a champ. He could break his wrists in a second. Fist-of-the-North-Star-style.  _It’s my fault: the goddamn gym._ Worst of all, Ryuji was getting harder the more Akira forced him.

“So... Why so sullen? Aren’t you going to make your leader happy? Can’t you even try? After all the times I saved your ass in battle? Have a heart.”

He had a point. Ryuji saw Akira reaching quickly beneath the bed, and then forcing his wrists into a pair of cuffs. Not handcuffs: fucking shackles, like the ones in Kamoshida’s palace. A padlock. Snap.  _Oh god. Oh god._ Akira turned the boy over and shoved his hands down his friend’s boxers.

“Oh my. That’s a nice answer. It’s showtime, then.”

_It’s fucking showtime, finally, ten months later._ He pressed his hand on Ryuji’s bloody lips, and then licked his thumb, looking down at him: the blond was paralyzed, starting to shiver. He was past the point of resisting Akira. He didn’t know what could happen next.

Akira started by kissing his neck. That would work for sure. Ryuji had his eyes closed, clearly imagining someone else, trying to forget where he was.  _So be it. Soon you won’t be able to think about anyone other than me._ He pushed back the blond’s head, biting his neck fiercely, going down to his collarbone. He noticed Ryuji’s movements: the boy was arching his body so that Akira’s teeth kept moving down, almost begging his friend to bite deeper, down on his chest, on his nipples. He ripped the tank top to make things easier. Ryuji didn’t even seem to notice.  _Fucking slut. All this time pretending._ Or was he?

Akira stopped for ten seconds.

“‘Kira... Don’t... Please.”

“Ah, I see. You don’t like it.” He looked up to his face: clenched teeth, sweaty brow, crimson lips; more turned on than angry.

“Just... arrggghhh...” Ryuji kept rubbing his body against Akira’s. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I can stop anytime if you want.”

“No... Don’t... Just fuckin’ finish me.”

“Tsk, tsk.” He pulled his hair. Hard. “Manners, you dumbass.”

“Pl-please, Akira... please don’t leave me this way, _please_...”

“That’s the way.” Akira took off Ryuji’s boxers and his own clothes and tossed everything on the floor, minus the belt. He moved his friend to the bed and threw himself over his body right away.

Ryuji was still embarrassed, but his eyes were open now. He’d always admired Akira’s body, especially since they had started training together in earnest. Hard, strong, especially the chest and the upper arms, with well-defined abs and a thin waist. A body any guy would kill for. Also, he’d seen him naked many times, but this was... Well, there was another reason why he would be popular. He was jealous. There was something else, too: this hot body that everyone wanted was now rubbing against him, of all people, melting into  _him,_ Akira’s right hand rubbing their dicks together, his teeth leaving marks everywhere, Akira’s left hand was up his...  _No, no, no, he can’t, no..._

“Akira, please... I just can’t take it. Not now. Just not now. I beg you—just pleeeease make me come.”

Akira got up for a second and reached for his belt. Ryuji started scuttling back but froze when the raven looked at him. “I won’t hit you. Not tonight. You don’t deserve it.” Instead, he looped the belt around Ryuji’s neck like a collar. “Your ass, too. Next time. Don’t worry, I will not forget. As for now... Hold your horses. Men come first, boys gotta wait.”

Without warning, Akira sat on his chest and plugged his dick in the blond’s mouth. “This will be quick.”

Ryuji was startled, but something in him said that it was best to behave. Akira’s expression, that grin that he usually saved for his enemies, left no room for doubt. The track boy simply tried to purse his lips around him, praying that he wouldn’t gag.

Akira had no time for training this boy. Not yet. “Stay put and make that hole cozy. Be a nice whore.” He skull-fucked his friend without a care, without holding anything back: he wouldn’t last long, but neither would Ryuji. The blond seemed oddly proficient at keeping his teeth in check. His mouth was soft, and his lips formed a perfectly tight “o.” After a few minutes, Akira came: he clasped Ryuji’s head with his left hand while his right tightened the belt. “Drink up, you fucking bitch. To the last drop. It’ll make you a man.” The blond didn’t even flinch.  _What the hell._

Ryuji felt his friend bursting in his mouth: it was a familiar feeling. He’d felt disgusted his first time, and the few times after that, but this wasn’t the same. Not so much the flavor, but the feeling of servicing this guy that he admired, and even wanted somehow, in his own way.  ~~ _Or perhaps in the not-so-special “make me your bitch” way, Ryuji._ ~~ He had never accepted Kamoshida, but offering his body to Akira felt good. It felt hot, hard as it was for him to accept  _that._

The raven didn’t waste time. He noticed that the boy enjoyed the dirty talk.  _Great._ He went straight for the neck again, while jerking Ryuji off, his cock soaked in precum. He was dying to see this “straight” boy melting beneath him. “Look at you boy, milking your leader dry... You’re a thirsty bitch, aren’t ya?”

And how. Ryuji didn’t answer. He contorted violently and  _screamed_ —loudly. Thank god they were alone in the building. He came in spurts, with Akira still over him, making a mess. At this point, neither of the two boys cared. Akira went up to Ryuji’s mouth, now more gentle.

“What do you say, boy?”

“Thank you... leader.” Ryuji gasped for air. They kissed: sweat, blood, cum. Messy. Filthy. Disgusting. They couldn’t care less.

*******

Half an hour later, Akira was spooning Ryuji in bed, caressing the nape of his neck with his nose, right after taking care of the boy’s busted lip.

“Did you have a good time, Ryuji?”

“...yes. Don’t need to rub it in. Like you didn’t notice.”

“Heh... I _will_ rub it in.”

“Come on... How about you?”

“You’re kidding, right? Hell yeah. I gotta say... I don’t even think I can look at you again in the same way.”

“What do you mean??”

“Turn around.”

He did. Akira stared at him. Steel eyes. Staring  _through_ him, not at him. That piercing stare again: it meant “knives out.” That was Joker on the prowl, out for blood, not goody-two-shoes Akira. Ryuji’s face flushed. “Oh. I see.”

“We need to talk,” the raven boy said. “The lips look better.” The bruise from the slap was not swelling too much. “Sorry. But... You enjoy that, right?”

“Akira!!! I-I-I... I guess I did.” He shook his head, mortified. “Shit, man, I—“

“Ryuji. Lan-guage.” He tugged his hair gently.

“Sorry. I enjoyed it a lot. It’s just crazy. I mean, not exactly the slapping. I just liked it when you... You know. Got rough with me. I didn’t know you had that in you. But... did you like doing it?”

“Ha! Whaddya think? That’s the problem. I think I’d really enjoy... doing more things to you. Things you don’t wanna hear now.” He struggled to find the words. “I wanna make sure you can take all I want to give you.”

Ryuji blushed slightly and chuckled. “I’ll try.”

“Didn’t mean just _that,_ perv. We gotta talk.”

He felt Akira breathing in his ear.  _“You do wanna hear those things. Tell him, Ryuji.”_ “Talk. Hm. So... Are we gonna be friends after this?”

“No, Ryuji. After this, I don’t think I’m OK with friends. Not by a far shot. I’m not calling you a friend again. I hope you understand.”

“OK. We’ll talk.” Ryuji smiled a bit. He felt confused, but it was good to know that this had meant something for his... lover (!!??) too. He’d opened a door and he was still fumbling for the light switch in the dark, but it felt cozy enough.

“So I said.”

“Tomorrow. Let’s talk tomorrow.” He paused. Akira’s eyes were still piercing him. “Akira...” Ryuji snuggled up to his friend’s chest and passed out. The raven’s arms closed around him like spider legs, but he wasn’t afraid. _We’ll sort this out._

_The things I wanna do to you, boy. Hoo boy._ He dreamed of chains and shackles, but it wasn’t the Velvet Room this time.

*******

It was the Velvet Room again: after their tryst in their Metaverse, they spooned for a bit, Akira closed his eyes and poof. No shackles this time, but the atmosphere was heavy: impending doom. The usual. Lavenza was standing in front of him. His cell was open and he donned his Joker clothes.

“We meet again. How strange. It has only been two months, but... I must admit that I missed you.”

Joker checked his gloves. Once more, a red-handed thief.

“You look concerned: I understand your feelings. I share them, in fact.”

“ _You_ don’t know what is going on?” He didn’t bother saying “hi.” It was as if he expected this to happen sooner or later.

“I can’t see far into the future. But all signs point at danger on the horizon. It’s too early to tell what and when will happen: you must be vigilant.”

“Morgana said so.”

“Pay heed to his words. He’s a very special being.”

“What about the others?”

“This fate will affect them too. But it seems that the force bringing it forth would rather engage with you... And your soulmate: Sakamoto-san. You have developed a unique bond with your friend ever since your last triumph.”

_He is not my friend._ “We’re a small team, though.”

“Perhaps you will find new allies. You will still have your Personas, at any rate. I will see to it that you are well prepared when the time comes. It is the least I can do.”

Akira nodded. He hated this. But if something or someone was trying to get between him and Ryuji, he’d bite back.

_I’ll cut a bitch up._

“I think it’s time to return to your world, Trickster. I will be seeing you.”

“Same same.”

There was no way around it.

The light filtered through the dirty windows at Leblanc. Akira opened his eyes, got up quietly, got ready, and made sure to wake Ryuji up before leaving: a nice slap on the butt. But he couldn’t tell him yet. The boy deserved some rest.

*******

Ryuji felt anxious as he waited for Naoki to come down. It had only been two months, but things had changed even more than during his life as a Phantom Thief, in some ways. He’d been holding back for too long. He’d tucked away his feelings so deep that he couldn’t tell if they were his own anymore. He could have grown a goddamn palace like that. But after that first night, it all came together quickly. It felt good to love Akira. It felt great to have that man all to himself. It felt amazing to do the crazy stuff they did.

But then, there was Naoki. Ryuji had months to accept the fact that his best friend wanted him. As for the purple-eyed boy... He came out of nowhere: he’d been flirting ever since they met. Or was it just Ryuji imagining things? Cause Naoki was also nice to him. There wasn’t a long list of people who were friendly to the blond. Could he no longer hang out with guys without feeling guilty? Then again, why he’d rather not let Akira know about this boy? What if—

“Hey, blondie.” Naoki snuck up from behind and patted his friend in the back.

“Whoa! Dammit, man, you almost killed me there.”

“Hee, hee... I’m a soccer player, you know. Sneaky, sneaky,” Naoki said, grinning.

“Uf. Anyways. You all set?”

“Pretty much. I’ll grab my shoes and then you lead the way.”

Naoki was putting on his best act. He sensed mixed feelings coming from Ryuji: the boy was clearly happy to see him, but there was something else that he was putting a lid on. It still  _smelled_ nonetheless. But he wasn’t going to worry about it now. He looked inside his cubby, which was on the row opposite Ryuji’s. His shoes were stuck.

**[Cue Bauhaus’ “Slice of Life”;** [ **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tkBivvXwEWM** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tkBivvXwEWM) **]**

All of a sudden, something came out of it: a black furball that jumped above his head, leaving a green flash in the air. Naoki gasped. “The fuck?!”

“What’s going on, man?”

“It’s... it’s” Naoki muttered. _Get a hold of yourself. Pronto._

“Whoa! A cat?” _That could be... The eyes, though._ “Were you bringing a cat to school _all_ this time?”

“No! You think I’m stupid?” Naoki looked Gouto in the eye. He’d have to lie. “I don’t know where it came from.”

_Smartass demon._ Gouto raised an eyebrow, perched atop the cubbies. Before anyone had the chance to kick him out, he started walking towards the entrance, making eye contact with Naoki all the way.

Ryuji was staring at the boy, who seemed distressed: that damn cat had sprung out of the cubby like a wild beast. Still... It was just a cat. A snarky-looking cat.

Gouto stood in the doorway and combed his hair with his right paw.

“I think it wants to say something.” Morgana looked like a cat too, and then...

“I dunno.”

“He likes you, man!”

“Shuddup.”

Gouto meowed and looked past the doors.

“So weird. Is he lost?” Ryuji sure felt lost.

“Probably.” _Lost my ass._

There were two possibilities: either Gouto was following him, or Raidou had found out about the school and sent his mentor to scout the area. He couldn’t read the cat the way he read humans, but he knew enough.

He had two choices: follow the cat and see what the hell he was up to, or ignore him and risk having Raidou sneak up on him as soon as he was left alone.

“Let’s see what he does,” Naoki said.

“Why not.” Ryuji had seen his share of weird lately, but hey—cats do get lost. This couldn’t be too crazy.

Almost as if the cat had gotten the hint, he started running in front of the boys. At a cat’s pace: no match for varsity athletes.

Ryuji and Naoki jogged behind Gouto. Easy enough. They left the school campus and made it to the street that runs parallel to the Gyoen National Garden. Gouto took a sharp turn into an alley between a residential building and a convenience store, bikes parked all over the place. As soon as the boys turned the corner, he vanished into yet another alley, this one too narrow for any vehicle to pass. The kind of place where boys get together to smoke and do things they’re not supposed to do. Naoki froze.

“Ryuji?”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna get in there. Just wanna make sure he’s OK.”

“Ehh... Sure, but... Why?”

_I have no excuses left._ “I just have a thing for animals. Wanna see if he’s hungry or something. Cats don’t usually get close to people like that.”

Ryuji remembered one Mementos request: this sick fuck that used to abuse cats in a back alley in Shibuya or something. In a way, it made sense that Naoki cared for this cat. He behaved like one sometimes.

“OK. I’ll go with you.”

“No. You go get on the train. I’ll join you at the arcade.”

“But...”

“Really. It’s just a silly thing of mine. Please.”

“...”

“Ryuji... I’ll call you, OK? We got plans. I’m not bailing out.”

Ryuji felt relieved.  _I shouldn’t. It’s not a date._ Still... there was something fishy about the cat thing. “Fine. Be careful, though. You never know with stray cats.”

_You tell me._ “Don’t worry. I’m a big boy.”

“OK. See ya.”

“See ya, Ryuji.”

Naoki kept an eye on the boy until he turned the corner.

*******

Gouto made sure there was no one around. He jumped on his pupil’s shoulder.

“You better not mess it up this round, gumshoe.”

Raidou nodded and held on to the tip of his hat.  _It’s showtime._

**[From the SMT III: Nocturne Chronicle edition, “Show Time”:** [ **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWnvcBenVJQ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWnvcBenVJQ) **; sorry, it never gets old]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, yelling, and other forms of communication are welcome. Feedback helps when it comes to figuring out what to do with these kids.
> 
> In Chapter 5, we will have a touching reunion (sorry for stealing your line, Sephiroth). And Ryuji gets in a caper. Poor Ryuji.


	5. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another (1 John 4:11)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on _I am the Alpha and the Omega,_ Ryuji recalls his first “date” with Akira, while Naoki tries to spend some quality bro time with the track kid. But a green-eyed beauty gets in his way.
> 
> In tonight’s chapter, we have a touching reunion (sorry for stealing your line, Sephiroth). And Ryuji tries hard to get what he wants—even if he shouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Tonight, we jump into the unknown. This whole fanfic is new material (original or trite, that’s a separate question), so you could say it’s been happening since chapter 1. From now on, however, I will be publishing as I write. Bam. If things seem less properly edited, that’s because they _are._ Oops. At any rate...  
>    
> **BEWARE:**
> 
> Not much tonight. Just some heavy petting between a human and a human-looking demon, as well as some references to potential past abuse.
> 
> And Naoki is being a sneaky little demon.
> 
> In terms of spoilers, nothing of note.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ryuji walked out of the backstreet trying to look chill while paying close attention to Naoki’s steps. He stopped at the corner of the convenience store. From there, he had a clear view of the narrow back alley that Naoki had entered. The boy could not possibly see him from inside. That also meant that Ryuji wouldn’t be able to see his friend, but at least he could intervene in case something weird happened to him. He had to come out at some point, too.

A year ago, he would have left Naoki fend for himself. For one thing, he wouldn’t have been attracted to him. But also, he wouldn’t have felt the need to help him either—a very close friend, perhaps, but not this guy. Things had changed a whole lot. It wasn’t OK to look the other way when someone was about to get in trouble. Much less if that person was a friend or someone he cared about, even if they had met not too long ago. Something he’d learned in his life as a Phantom Thief is that avoiding problems wasn’t an option.

And heck, he wanted to make sure that Naoki didn’t ghost him. That kid was sneaky.

*******

The back alley was smelly, barely six feet wide, with some nooks and recesses here and there. Even on a sunny spring afternoon, it was fairly dark. The kind of place only a cat would find comfortable. Naoki had seen much worse, though. He started walking toward the dead end of the alley, some fifty meters away from its entrance.

After taking a few steps, he focused and tried to sense the area. There were no humans in sight, even though this was next to a residential building. But then he felt a presence close to him: someone who seemed cool, unfazed, waiting patiently for their prey. It could only be him.

“Hey.” Gouto dropped on top of Naoki from a lamppost. Of course, it could also be the cat.

“Whoa! Be careful. Those claws are sharp.”

“Look who’s talking. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I... I am.” _Well.._ _._ “You scared the hell out of me back there. Is... Raidou with you?”

“What do you think?”

As Gouto finished his sentence, Naoki heard one of the doors that lead to the alleyway opening behind him. He had forgotten about those goddamn doors.

“You should always watch your back, demon boy,” Raidou said, suave as ever. “There be dragons.”

Naoki’s hunch was right. There he was, dressed in a school uniform he’d never seen: mostly unremarkable, save for the checkered pants and the bright red buttons that popped out over the black blazer. He was wearing his cap to cover his gaze: typical Raidou. The demon didn’t need to see his eyes, though. Raidou was calm and collected, but also ready for whatever might happen. It would be best to act friendly.

“Raidou! You made it!” Naoki felt his joints suddenly locking in place. Part of him wanted to hug this man, to make out with him, to throw him on the ground and smell him, that faint scent of polished wood and incense he’d gotten the first time. ~~To feel his hands forcing his wrists against the small of his back.~~ But something in his body prevented him from doing so.

“Did it occur to you that I wouldn’t? I came here because of you... And I will be happy to take you home. It has been a while.” Raidou approached the demon slowly, apparently unarmed.

“R-Raidou...” Naoki started to sweat. He felt anxiety welling up in his stomach. Today’s lunch, too. He recoiled with every step of the summoner as if dancing with him. The stiffness disappeared: now he felt his limbs hanging from his body like dead weight, as if someone had pinched his spine from above and was handling him like a puppet. _What the hell is happening to me._ It would be normal to feel cautious: the last time Raidou cornered him like this he ended up a bloody mess on the floor of Amala’s corridors. But this was worse than fear.

“Are you frightened? You shouldn’t. You will never be frightened anymore.” Raidou took two quick steps forward and pinned Naoki against the wall. He felt the boy’s wrists pulsing: he was terrified, rather than frightened. But Raidou wasn’t about to ease up on him. He’d be gentle, but firm.

“I was expecting you’d be happier to see me. But you can explain later. What matters now is that we’re back together. You’re mine again.”

Naoki started shivering. His upper lip was trembling the same way it did when he was about to bare his fangs. But he didn’t have any, save for those of a regular human. Still: the headache he usually felt when thinking about his (previous?) Master had turned into something else: a claw that gripped his guts and made him feel nauseated. Sick. As if he hadn’t desired the guy in front of him. As if this man wasn’t as handsome as ever, even without his cape and his whole detective getup.

Raidou glared at Naoki while getting his lips closer to him, feeling that this would reassure the boy that the detective’s intentions were good. A kiss was better than a thousand words. The demon’s right wrist slipped from the summoner’s grip, seemingly going down to caress him. It was all good.

Until he felt Naoki’s fist on his stomach. A sucker punch came out of nowhere and pushed him until the back of his head hit the wall behind. He fell to the ground, dazed and breathless. The demon added a kick for good measure.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Naoki felt downright ill. Raidou’s touch had ticked something inside him—the wrong way. He wanted to just let go into his arms, but he simply couldn’t. It felt bad. The fact that it did only added to the frustration. Did this mean he wouldn’t enjoy being with guys anymore?

“You little... What the hell... is wrong with you?! Have you forgotten who I am?” Despite the blow, Raidou managed to articulate clearly.

“I... Raidou... Just leave. I can’t give you what you want from me. Not now.” Naoki’s voice, on the contrary, was shaking, about to break, as he walked toward the mouth of the alley.

Raidou forced himself to stand up. He was thrashed: no human could punch this hard. His boy was still a demon through and through, as Gouto had anticipated. But the summoner couldn’t show weakness: this creature could kill him and consume his body if he wanted... Which was _not_ the case, fortunately.

“You are _not_ going to run away from me. That’s not what you want. And you know it.” He tried to leap forward and reach for the boy’s arms again.

Naoki put his hands around the summoner’s neck and pressed. Raidou’s eyes widened: it was the first time ever that he’d let the boy see him scared. The summoner attempted to kick the demon on the groin, which made him release the grip to dodge the blow. The demon’s face was in complete disarray during the scuffle. Rather than attacking again, he covered his eyes with his right forearm and ran out of the alley as fast as he could.

“Raidou—stop right there.” Gouto was quick. “You’re going to let him go for now.” His only power was words, but it usually worked. He hadn’t seen Raidou like this since the day he failed to confine the demon boy after fighting him in Amala.

The summoner conceded grudgingly and sat on the ground, one hand on his stomach, the other on the brim of his hat. Silent.

*******

Ryuji was getting worried. He felt it would look shady to stay at that corner for too long. For once, the damn school uniform was a good thing. The Gyoen kids did as they pleased in this neighborhood. He’d just wait and chill as long as he needed. He had to. Something was going on with this boy. He still checked his pockets for change to see if he could get some Manta from the vending machine. Anything fizzy. Might as well.

As he fished a couple of coins, he heard a scream, followed by sounds of... fighting? _What_ _the_ _...?!_ Footsteps came right after, and then Naoki zapped out of the alley: he was well-known in his team for being fast in the pitch. Still, that was no match for Ryuji in such a short distance, even if the blond had trouble with his knees: he put the coins back in his pocket, sprinted, and snatched his classmate.

“The fuck?! WHAT ARE YOU DOIN’ HERE?”

“Wait, I was...”

“A fuckin’ STAKEOUT OR WHAT?”

“Hey, man, I... Calm down!”

“You...” Naoki raised his fist, but Ryuji didn’t flinch. Instead, he strengthened his grip and shook him. It took a lot of effort. _Holy fuck, is he strong_ _._

“What did I do to you?! Take it easy!”

“J-just...” Naoki’s chest was heaving. He counted to three. “Just... Let’s dash. We need to leave this place. Let’s go to the arcade.”

“Wait—man, you’re all shaky. What happened back there?”

“N-none of your business.”

“Bullshit. Naoki, look at you.” He was sweaty, pale, his eyes red, his brow still furrowed. “Did you see a freakin’ ghost? I heard you arguing with a guy. We gotta talk.”

“But—”

Ryuji seized Naoki firmly. This guy was nothing like Raidou, but he showed that he was not going to let the demon go, for completely different reasons. Naoki could have punched him in the face, as per usual, but he was the wrong target for his rage. If anything, he felt like punching himself in the face for what just happened. _And then, you do want_ _Ryuji_ _to grab you and—_

“No buts. I don’t know what went on and I don’t care.”

Naoki analyzed the situation. Ryuji had heard enough. He probably had some ideas about what had happened in the alley. Still, the scope of Raidou and Naoki’s story was too overwhelming for a regular human to even fathom. The demon had room to make something up.

After all, he also knew something about Ryuji’s private life—at least, he thought so. The red marks on his neck were still there: fading away, but he could smell them. It was blood, after all.

In short, both had secrets. _Breathe in, breathe out, Naoki. You can do this._

“OK. Cool. Where do we talk?”

 _Should I really..._ “Erm... Look, there’s this coffee house I work some evenings in Yongen-Jaya...”

“Yongen? That’s kinda far.”

“What do you want? It’s not like I know a lot of sit-down places.” Of course, that was beside the point. What mattered is that they could have a heart-to-heart without anyone bothering them.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” _Before Raidou_ _comes out drawing_ _his sword or something._

 _Phew._ Ryuji didn’t want to think about it that way, but... his date was saved. More importantly, though, his friend was safe and calmer. He now had a trickier task: first, to get Sojiro on the phone; second, to convince him to leave Leblanc in Ryuji’s hands for the evening.

*******

Raidou was sitting in bed, his body aching, still unsure as to whether he’d show up for work tomorrow.

“Sure, Nijima-san... I really appreciate that... No, you don’t need to worry... These things happen.”

“Tell her you _don’t_ want any police involvement.”

Raidou nodded and dismissed Gouto’s comment.

“That sounds good. I will see you in a couple of days. Thanks. Goodbye.”

“Uff. That was difficult. But at least I’ve gotten away easily. She doesn’t need me that badly tomorrow.”

“And yet... Goddammit. We’ve started with a bang, haven’t we?”

Gouto had tended Raidou several times in the Vortex World on the occasion of his setbacks against Hitoshura, always trying to keep the summoner from throwing the towel. His current situation was more desperate: in spite of his power, Naoki was just a regular boy, and trying to force him to do anything—let alone the kind of treatment he gave the demon in Kabukicho prison—would turn Raidou into a criminal. But he looked more determined than ever.

“I don’t give one goddamn fuck.”

“Whoa, kid. They’ve really upgraded your language.”

“It’s all I can say. There’s something rotten with Naoki and I’m going to go to the bottom of the case. It’s my job.” Naoki sat up straight and reached down for something on his left side. “Period.” He was hurting, but he was pretty sure nothing was broken. He’d taken blows from Hitoshura more than once.

He fished his aluminum case from beneath his bed. He recalled Nijima telling him it was a handover from the previous intern. _“_ _A very talented young man._ _Truly b_ _rilliant._ _Big_ _shoes to fill... But I_ _think you might be_ _a_ _better fit for our office._ _He was... a bit_ _eccentric_ _._ _”_

He took the keys from his pocket and opened the two locks. He kept his most prized possession inside: his kuda, the summoning tubes that contained the essence of the demons he’d confined in battle, ready to go at a moment’s notice. The vials were all neatly lined up and had a peaceful emerald glow. This was Raidou’s jewel box.

He’d tested every tube over the course of the last week. He’d taken precautions: summoning demons in a new world cannot be done lightly. Fortunately, his demons were invisible to those around him, just as in the world that he hailed from. He hadn’t been deprived of his powers as a summoner.

There was only one kuda that refused to work: Hitoshura’s. He hadn’t attempted to summon him fully: calling out such a fearsome creature could create a commotion. And yet, the kuda didn’t even react to his words. It just glowed quietly with its purple light—akin to the boy’s eyes—as if waiting for a more powerful master. Its appearance hadn’t changed after their encounter in the alley. But the boy whose body had received demonic powers after the Conception _was_ in this Tokyo, visible to everyone. Something was wrong.

He wondered how wrong it was. He needed advice.

For now, he’d probably summon Cú Chulainn for a quick fix.

*******

Sojiro was waiting outside Leblanc, his arms crossed, a cigarette glued to his lips.

“Oh, hi, Sakura-san. Are you in a rush?”

“Well, I was counting with Akira to work today... But he’s got the Crossroads gig. Gotta give the kid a break. I’m surprised you stepped in.”

“Well, I just want to be sure he doesn’t get too stressed.”

“That’s good.” Sojiro was curt, but even Ryuji could tell he was happy. “Well, gotta go. There’s more to life than this place. You know where everything is. Call me if you need help. Oh... Your friend...”

“Oh, sorry. Yes, this is Naoki.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

“Sure.” _These Gyoen kids are so_ _well-mannered_ _._

“He wanted to hang out a bit and help me with a couple of school things.” Ryuji made sure to point that out.

“A study session this early?” Sojiro scratched the nape of his neck. “Well. I hope you’re not in trouble.”

The blond boy grinned, mildly embarrassed. _Good boy, Ryuji. Your father-in-law likes you._ But he was in trouble.

As the two boys closed the door behind them, Sojiro turned around and squinted. _Hm. He never brings anyone here..._

*******

Leblanc was surely a great place for a date: no one would ever find them there unless that person lived here. And they still got time. Not that it was the most romantic spot, but...

“So you work here.”

“Yep.” It was only half a lie. Akira had taught him the basics so that they could spend more time together. And to earn some easy brownie points with Sojiro.

“You never struck me as the barista type.”

“Well... Hey, it’s just work. This ain’t like Starvicks or anything fancy.”

“You don’t even like coffee, do you?”

“I can stomach it. But it’s not like I have to taste every cup. C’mon man, you want coffee or not?”

“Hee, hee... I’m just teasing. Yes, I do.”

On the way to Yongen, Naoki had managed to come up with a plan, while Ryuji stood by him somewhat awkwardly. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t have to learn what was going on between Raidou and the demon boy, but he didn’t have to be kept in the dark either. Demons didn’t lie, but... Naoki could just edit a few things here and there.

“Here it is. Black coffee. Sugar’s on the table.”

“Thanks. And you?”

Ryuji produced a bottle of Calpis.

“Blergh.” _That looks and tastes like... Nah, save_ _the joke_ _for later._

“Ain’t this better for you than coke?”

“Whatever.”

Ryuji stayed silent for a few seconds, while Naoki stirred his coffee.

“So... Are you OK now?” No reason to beat around the bush.

“Yes... I am.”

“What was _that,_ anyway?”

“Do you really want me to tell you?”

“I... Yes, I do. I-It’s not you, I’d do this for anyone.”

Funny. Naoki had always been the kind of guy that stood up for others and tried to protect them. For a second, Ryuji made him think that he was on the other side. ~~_“_~~ ~~ _But you could eliminate Raidou in a second, Hitoshura.”_~~

“It’s a long story. Super long.”

“That’s cool. See... I don’t need to leave...” _Akira comes back from work._ _H_ _e’ll_ _skin me alive_ _if he finds you here_ _._ “11pm.”

“Well, OK. I’ll make it quick just in case.”

“Who was that guy, then? I guess you don’t need to be afraid of him, but...”

“That guy was... my boyfriend.” He blushed, but just a little. He wasn’t out of the closet to everyone, but ever since coming back from the Vortex World he had the feeling that everyone knew. “Everyone” had seen him suspended in bondage gear, all hot and bothered, led out of Kabukicho ~~by his Master~~. He didn’t have any shame or dignity left. Not that they did him any good.

But this was the real world. That is, the other real world. The only one now that the Vortex World was gone.

“He _was,_ right?” Ryuji hoped not to sound too pushy.

“Yes, he was. Right now... Let’s say we are not on the best terms.” Did that count as a lie?

“What about the cat?”

“It’s his.” ~~_So am I._~~

“And you went after him.”

“Well, see... I just thought he would wanna talk or something. But he got kinda... intense, you know? Pinning me against the wall and shit...” Naoki shook his head. “He’s been always a bit like that.”

Ryuji gathered his wits and tried not to show any emotion. This was too personal. He knew well the feeling of being pinned against the ground by somebody he liked. In a way, that’s when he realized he liked his boyfriend. Come think of it, the way Akira and he started their relationship was totally fucked up. But you never know. _I guess we’re both fucked up. But Naoki?_

“Did that guy... Did he abuse you, then?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“...”

“He was just too possessive. Fact is, though... I don’t _need_ any protection.”

“Wait, I wasn’t—”

“No, I know. I know you know. You heard the fight. I can take him on.” _That’s the problem. I don’t really want to. I never did._

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? Don’t be.”

“No, I mean... I just don’t like when people pressure others into doing shit they don’t want.”

“Well. I appreciate your concern.”

“OK.” _Damn, so cold all of a sudden._

Naoki smirked. He managed to change the topic. Raidou was case closed: an abusive boyfriend, blah, blah, “I got over him,” that’s that. Now it was about Ryuji. Why was he so concerned?

Deep inside, the demon boy still craved the connection he had with Raidou: he _wanted_ someone to own h im, to... show him the ropes. _Ha... ha._ He wanted to be loved as well, but a regular, human boyfriend would just be a pastime. ~~He couldn’t possibly tap~~ ~~the~~ ~~guy’s blood,~~ ~~for starters~~ ~~.~~ In the meantime, though...

 _He will do. He’ll have to do._ He needed the blond boy now. He had to dispel the idea that something was wrong with him, that he no longer could feel something for a guy.

“Ryuji. Look at me.” He was about to do the unspeakable. But he’d learned from the best. Sometimes, one has to be bold, as the summoner, the one carrying Da’at, had been. It would pay in the end.

He got his hand closer to Ryuji’s, which was holding the bottle.

“I know you want me.”

Ryuji pulled back his hand and made a frown. It’s true that he wanted Naoki, but being at Leblanc made Akira’s presence too obvious. The whole place smelled of him. Well, it smelled of coffee and curry, actually... Pretty much the same.

Naoki persisted. “Listen... I’m not 100% sure about what you like, or whether you’re with someone or not... I’m not gonna ask questions.”

“Naoki...” He was blushing.

 _Finally._ Should he make a plea? “I’ve been through a lot lately. And I could use someone to just... _Do_ something. You are... _hella_ cute.”

“Wow, man. You’re freakin’ forward.” Praise was the way to go with Ryuji. Even as a Phantom Thief, he’d been the butt of the team’s jokes constantly. That’s what he liked the most about Akira: he didn’t hold back praise.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice someone looking?”

Ryuji was getting flustered, but still functioning. “Well, you’re a smart dude, even if you do sports and all.” _I actually prayed you wouldn’t notice._

“I do think I’m smarter than you.”

Ryuji gulped.

“But that doesn’t matter.” He traced Ryuji’s jawline with his fingers. He moved down to his neck.

Ryuji swatted his hand.

“Sorry. Does it hurt?”

“No! It’s just... It’s personal.” The way Naoki looked at him... He _knew._ At least he had an idea. Not good. “It’s nothing important.”

“OK. I’ll trust you.”

“Look.” The boy in front of him was slowly sucking him in. “Let’s just go upstairs and relax a bit. Is that OK?” It better be. He didn’t know how to do these things. He certainly couldn’t do what Akira had done to him on their first date. In fact... It might be best if they didn’t do much at all. It was going to be difficult to take his boyfriend off his mind up in the room.

“Upstairs?”

“Yeah. There’s some storage space and the owner put up a room for boarders and whatnot.”

“Cool.” This would be a walk in the park.

*******

He dropped the sandwich, wiped his hands, and picked up the phone.

“Lala-chan? Hi!”

“Akira, dear. How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine... Just killing time before the shift at a diner.”

“Tsk, tsk... Kids your age! Time is to be treasured.” Lala giggled.

“Hey, I can do whatever I want,” Akira quipped.

“Well, actually, you’re kinda right on that.”

“Hm. What do you mean? Is something up?”

“Exactly! I got a call from a friend in the business. She’s opening a new joint in Ginza this weekend... And it turns out that there’ll be a little get-together just for us girls tonight.”

“Oh, perfect! Then I will run the bar.”

“Akira... You know you can’t. Listen, it’s no big deal. I posted it on the bar’s page for the regulars: I’m hosting at Ginza tonight, so Crossroads is closed.”

Akira wasn’t too happy: he wanted the money, and he wanted to spill the tea with Lala-chan for a couple of hours. Weekdays were usually quiet. “OK. No worries then.”

“I wanted to see you. You’re more than welcome to come to Ginza. You are one of the family... but you should rest.”

She was right, as usual. “I appreciate that.”

“I’m sorry for the last-minute change of plans... I’ll pay you double next week.”

“Lala! Thanks!”

“Don’t mention it. You’re such a great help. You should go pamper your boy.”

“Hee, hee... Well, I think I might actually go to bed early tonight.”

“Whatever works, my dear. Give yourself a little love.”

“OK, Lala. Call you early next week?”

“Please do. It’s always fun to have you here. Big kiss!”

“Same! Bye!”

Lala-chan’s cheer was contagious. He should really head home, though. The Metaverse excursion yesterday had drained him. Should he call Ryuji? Netflix and chill? He wondered.

*******

The upstairs was shabby, but not too bad. It had a twin bed, a few shelves, a desk, a CRT television with some old console plugged in, and a few personal possessions. They didn’t look like Ryuji’s.

“Do you stay here often?”

“Oh... I do, sometimes. There’s the sofa. Some guy who’s related to the owner sleeps here once in a while.”

Naoki wondered. Ryuji was probably making that up. Then again, that was OK. _It’s what humans do._

“Well, that sofa looks nice. I could use a cat nap. May I?”

“Eeeh... OK.”

Said and done. Naoki jumped on the squeaky sofa-bed. He laid flat and stretched. “Are you going to watch me sleep?”

“What?”

“There’s room for you.”

“B-but...”

This boy was basically eating out of his hand. And he didn’t even had to lie. All it would take was...

“Just come. Get behind me.”

Ryuji had his jacket open, and Naoki could practically see the outline of his heart beneath the fabric of his T-shirt. It was best if the blond got behind him. _Or I might be tempted to..._

The track boy obeyed. What else was there to do. He was just comforting his friend, right? Nothing had to happen. He squeezed his slender body behind Naoki’s clumsily. He pushed his pelvis back so that his crotch wouldn’t press on Naoki’s butt. Things could get awkward.

The demon felt skin behind him: both their T-shirts had untucked. It was just an inch, but it felt cool and clean to the touch. The track boy smelled the way Naoki had imagined him in his cabin fantasies: neat, wholesome, but also masculine. He’d probably showered after PE class today. He reached for his hands and took them to the front.

“I could use a hug, you know?”

“Sure.”

Ryuji was starting to lose it. His friend’s hands were unusually hot. He let him lead the way, and his fingers ended up on Naoki’s abs: firm, but also supple, and warm as well, even with the layer of cotton on top. Meanwhile, he smelled his hair: an odd, but enticing smell, like metal shavings. It was straighter and softer than Akira’s, but just as dark: an almost bluish shade of black. Naoki let out a giggle when feeling Ryuji’s breath tickling ~~his horn~~.

“Take my shirt off. It’s so hot in here.”

Ryuji did. He was acting on instinct, doing what felt right. He had no idea where to start, but taking off some clothes made sense. As he three the green T-shirt on the floor and revealed Naoki’s pale skin, that tight, delicious body, he realized that the boy was pushing his ass against him. It wasn’t big, but it was round, firm, full. It looked... _Oh my fucking god._

He couldn’t possibly do that now. He just wished Naoki could jerk off while he kissed his neck, or anything that wouldn’t require getting more involved. Cause this was bad. He opened his mouth and bit down gently on his friend’s neck, trying to keep his hard-on under control as much as possible. Naoki sighed loudly and pushed Ryuji’s right hand into his shorts. Did he like that?

The demon was happy. He felt that his friend was struggling: perhaps it was his first time or something. It would take work. But they had time. And yet, he had imagined that Ryuji would be a bit more... pushy. He’d be happy to help the blond, but honestly, if only this guy would, say... Tug his hair a little bit, or take off his jockstrap... Just misbehave a little... Perhaps—

Something flared in his mind. He sensed someone downstairs. Outside. Some odd presence. It reminded him of earlier today when Gouto jumped on him. Had Raidou followed them? His whole body tensed.

Ryuji’s hand was fumbling mindlessly with the buttons on Naoki’s shorts. Before he could hear them snap open, something clacked downstairs. A lock. _Oh shit._

He jumped off the sofa-bed, panicking. “It’s...!” He saw his friend jumping after him, faster than he could ever imagine. Naoki reached for the window, opened it, and jumped off.

“Naoki!” Ryuji screamed, and covered his mouth right after. _Oh SHIT._

_*******_

The demon stood in a dark recess close to Leblanc’s door. He barely had time to grab his shoes and the blazer, which he held in his hand. _“_ _Shirtless, l_ _ike the good old times, right, Hitoshura?”_ Who the fuck was that? He put on the blazer. He’d look weird, but it was the best he could do.

It hadn’t been Raidou. But there was someone here.

“ _Watch your back, will ya? I can’t do it all for you.”_

**[Cue Skunk Anansie’s “Secretly”;<https://youtu.be/7tm_zX8Nj2E?t=52>]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn. That was close.
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, yelling, and other forms of communication are welcome. Feedback helps when it comes to figuring out what to do with these kids.
> 
> In Chapter 6, Akira and Ryuji discuss things and Naoki wonders what the hell.

**Author's Note:**

> **THIS IS...**
> 
> A fanfic in some 15-20 chapters involving a unique quad:  
> • Akira Kurusu (Persona 5 protagonist) and Ryuji Sakamoto as a Master/servant and Master/maid couple, with a strong SM component: it turns out Saint Akira is a sadist in my book.  
> • Raidou Kuzunoha the XIV and Naoki Kashima/Hitoshura/Demifiend as a Master/slave couple—the summoner owns the demon (sort of). Pretty straightforward.
> 
> **THE THEMES**
> 
> Both _SMT III: Nocturne_ and _P5R_ are among my favorite games of all time. _Nocturne_ provides plenty of fuel to speak about power dynamic relationships: the Vortex World is all about that. As for _P5R,_ the possibilities are endless since the entire game revolves around questions of free will and authority. On a strictly sexual level, I like to explore the submissive/masochistic streak in Ryuji, that the game hints at in regards to Panther and Queen. Don’t get me started with the maid fantasy. When it comes to Akira, he has a fairly aggressive aesthetic for a hero, almost villain-like. While I enjoy fanfics that feature him either as dom or sub, I tend to write him as the former. He deserves to be a bad boy after all that hard, thankless work.
> 
> Just as _This Is My Servant_ —the first part of this “duology”—, this story is rife with BDSM/kink/fetish elements. I have toned them down somewhat, since Akira and Ryuji are both humans, and their relationship calls for a more realistic take. However, Naoki is very much a demon in this story (more or less—read on), which makes his connection to Raidou wilder from the get-go.
> 
> Beyond sex, I want to focus on how these two couples meet, as well as the dynamics between the two dominants and the two submissives. I love good old-fashioned BL stories in which all guys like all guys and any pairing can happen.
> 
> The world in which this story plays is modeled upon Tokyo immediately after P5R’s “good” ending, with many modifications due to Hitoshura’s bearing in the world after the neutral ending of _SMT III: Nocturne._ Yes, the demon boy has gotten his way with Creation. And what a fine mess he’s made.
> 
> Just as I mentioned in the prior story, remember that **this is fiction, not a BDSM guide: most of the relationships depicted in the story are unsafe, not too sane, and sometimes non-consensual.** Don’t get ideas. If BDSM piques your interest, go you! Get real information, talk with the person(s) you want to play with, and plan ahead. Consent is sexy.
> 
> And so is plot! The fanfic takes plenty of cues from P5R, but the story is original (which means that it is mine, not that it is actually that original, if you know what I mean). I have definitely taken the necessary liberties to make Akira and Ryuji actually, ahem, fuck. (Nothing wrong with just saying it either, Sakamoto-kun). The same applies to _SMT: Nocturne:_ Raidou and Demifiend are mere rivals in the game, and the summoner does not seem to have much interest in actually “owning” the demon—the relation between summoners and demons is always complicated.
> 
> **THE PROCESS**
> 
> As I mentioned elsewhere, there are not that many fanfics/dōjinshis devoted to Raidou x Demifiend, much less with the half-demon as the bottom/sub/slave/boy, despite the savage (non-canon) chemistry between these two. When I started writing _This Is My Servant,_ I always had in mind bringing the P5R world into it, or vice versa. After all, SMT mainline titles usually feature a version of modern-day Tokyo, usually on the verge of disaster.
> 
> Pegoryu fanfics are plenty, and I have derived some inspiration from the AO3 (check my bookmarks for some jewels). Despite writing mostly in my own creative bubble, rest assured: none of my work would happen without the original games as a point of reference, or the wild creativity of the AO3 folks.
> 
> Since we talk about games, a bit of acknowledgment: the lore that I’ve brought into this story comes from playing SMT I, III and IV, Persona 1 and 3-5, as well as the Raidou Kuzunoha games. At best, it will be a love letter to three branches of the Megaten franchise often in discord. At worst, it will be a flaming dumpster fire of a fanfic. But at least it’ll keep someone warm. ; )
> 
> Credit roll: all chapter headings come from the Christian Bible (NRSV/NIV), including the main title (Revelation 22:13). Since the previous story took cues loosely from the Tanakh/Old Testament, I’ve included some from the next part. Don’t read too much into it. Atlus loves to revise and republish, so does religion, and so do I.
> 
> I will also include video/music connections for an immersive experience. Don’t forget your VR set.


End file.
